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LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE 




r^wiwi^ ^L^ £dc'm;^:m^/t:^^^&: 






LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE 

AND 

THE EARLY LIFE OF LOUIS XIV 



FROM UNPUBLISHED DOCUMENTS 
By 

JULES LAIR 

Member of The Institute 



TRANSLATED FROM THE FOURTH FRENCH EDITION 
By 

ETHEL COLBURN MAYNE 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 



New York : G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 

27 and 29 West Twenty-Third Street 
1908 



'07 



FOREWORD 

THIS history — or, to use a less pretentious word, 
this memoir — was begun in the little Chateau 
of Bures, in the heart of the Chevreuse Valley. 
There I found — conscientiously copied — the letters of 
Louise de La Valliere to the Marechal de Bellefonds, 
letters till then known only in a grandiloquent kind of 
adaptation. The house was peculiarly fitted to evoke 
the memory of that gracious, tender woman, whose 
disinterestedness and modesty threw a veil over her 
only error — one which the world forgave her, but 
which she chose to expiate by a penance of more than 
forty years' duration. . . In that house, at the beginn- 
ing of the seventeenth century, lived a lady of the race 
of Bragelongne. In that house there died, a year ago, 
a good and noble woman who remembered being told, 
as a little child, by her grandmother, then aged eighty, 
of a Dowager-Princess of Conti having held her on 
her knees. " Ah, my children ! " the old lady had 
said (she was a Wavrin Villers-au-Tertre), " if you 
could have seen, if you could have known ! " And, 
as a sort of commentary to these wonderful tales, were 
to be seen then — are, indeed, to be seen now — ten or 
twelve pictures representing personages of the Grand 
Siecle : a Princess dressed as Diana ; a Magdalen, 
whose conventual habit is very evidently painted over 
the splendid fripperies of a Court-dress ; and, last 
but not least, a Carmelite nun. To find, in such a 



vi Foreword 

place, La Valli^re's letters ! It was inevitable that one 
should evoke again, study again, that most sympathetic 
personality. 

This study has occupied the leisure-hours of six 
years. No one would guess that to look at it, yet it 
is so. I must add, however, that the leisure-hours 
have been few. For those six years, I cherished the 
design of dedicating this volume to the Chatelaine of 
Bures, that Mme la Comtesse Adrienne de Wavrin, 
who seemed not so much a contemporary of one's own 
as the granddaughter of a contemporary of Louise de 
La Valliere. At once very proud and very simple, 
very amiable and very melancholy, as hostile to 
modernity as she was interested in the past, heroic on 
her bed of suffering as were her ancestors on the field 
of battle, Mme de Wavrin was the true daughter of 
a great race. I had hoped to offer her these pages. 
She would have read them — at the worst, out of kind- 
ness. But I shall not have that pleasure, and she will 
not have that trouble. Nevertheless, I should feel 
myself wanting in gratitude, I should even feel that I 
was taking from my book its one little chance of 
success, if I omitted to speak here of all it owes to 
that last descendant of a noble line. 'Tis but the 
homage of a day — I shall have no satisfaction but the 
heartfelt pleasure of having rendered it. . . I owed 
it, and I now render it, to the memory of Mme la 
Comtesse de Wavrin Villers-au-Tertre. 

Bures, 

September 2%^ 1880. 

It would be unbecoming to seem to dedicate twice 
so modest a volume, but may I record here that it 
was Monsieur Brunetiere who first drew public atten- 
tion, with all the authority and indulgence of a master, 



Foreword vii 

to this work of an unknown writer ? I desire to ac- 
knowledge now all that I owe to that eminent critic, 
so prematurely lost to his friends and to literature. 
I desire at the same time to salute respectfully the 
brave defender of those principles without which a 
people can never flourish — love of country, and faith 
in God. 

I have added to this edition several reproductions 
of pictures, portraits, views, and plans which conduce 
to the better knowledge of Louise de La Valliere and 
her time. These documents have been for the most 
part until now unpublished, or little known. It is an 
agreeable duty for me to thank here my confrere^ 
Monsieur A. Froment, archivist and paleographer, who 
has accorded me an active and intelligent co-operation 
in this matter. 




THE ARMS OF LE BLANC 



The keystone in the ancient chapel of La Baume, at Veurdre. (See p.g. 
By the courtesy of M. Eugene Le Brun. 



CONTENTS 

FIRST PART 

1644 — 1663 

PA6B 

Foreword v 

CHAPTER I 
1644— 1659 3 

CHAPTER II 
1659— 1661 39 

CHAPTER III 
APRIL, 1661 — NOVEMBER, 1661 60 

CHAPTER IV 

NOVEMBER, 1661 — MARCH, 1662 87 

CHAPTER V 
MARCH, 1662 — DECEMBER, 1662 I03 

CHAPTER VI 
JANUARY, 1663 — OCTOBER, 1 663 II9 

SECOND PART 

1663 — 1666 

CHAPTER I 

END OF 1663 — DECEMBER, 1 664 1 37 

CHAPTER II 
DECEMBER, 1 664 — JANUARY, 1 666 152 

CHAPTER III 

JANUARY, 1666 — NOVEMBER, 1 666 I7l 

ix ^ 



X Contents 

THIRD PAM 

1667 — 1674 
CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

JANUARY, 1667 — JUNE, 1667 I9I 

CHAPTER II 

JULY, 1667 — FEBRUARY, 1668 212 

CHAPTER III 
FEBRUARY, 1 668 — FEBRUARY, 1 669 224 

CHAPTER IV 
1669 . . . . 244 

CHAPTER V 
JANUARY, 1670 — DECEMBER, 1670 255 

CHAPTER VI 
FEBRUARY, 1671 — APRIL, 1672 282 

CHAPTER VII 
APRIL, 1672 — OCTOBER, 1673 295 

CHAPTER VIII 

OCTOBER, 1673 — APRIL, 1 674 306 

FOURTH PART 

1674 — 1710 
CHAPTER I 

APRIL, 1674 — JUNE, 1675 33^ 

CHAPTER II 
1675— 1685 348 

CHAPTER III 
1686 — 1710 372 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



LOUISE DE LA VALLiERE (photogravure) . . . Frontispiece 

FACING PAGE 
THE ARMS OF LE BLANC . . . . . • . . ix 

HOTEL DE LA CROUZILLE, TOURS, AT THE PRESENT DAY . . 4 

RUINS OF THE OLD CASTLE OF LA BAUME, IN BOURBONNAIS . 6 

The old Tower. 
Courtyard. 

CHAtEAU DE REUGNY 12 

!Entrance. 
Exterior view. 

LOUIS XIV .38 

From an engraving after a picture by W. Vaillant. 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE 62 

After the engraving by I,armessin. 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE ........ 66 

From an engraving after a miniature by Petitot. 

LOUIS XIV 76 

From an engraving by R. Nanteuil, 1661. 

THE TUILERIES AND THE HOTEL LA VALLIERE .... 88 
After a plan by Turgot. 

LOUIS XIV., MADAME, AND HER MAIDS-OF-HONOUR . . . I20 

After the picture attributed to P. Mignard. 

THE PALAIS-ROYAL IN 1 679 . . . • . . .132 

After a drawing by I^a Boissiere. 

PORTRAIT OF LA VOISIN 154 

After the picture by Coypel. 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE 200 

After the picture by G. Edelinck. 



xii List of Illustrations 

FACING PAGE 
GABRIELLE GLE DE LA COTARDAIS, MARQUISE DE LA VALLl^RE . 2o8 
After the picture in tlie collection of Baron Hottinguer. 

THE OLD CASTLE OF SAINT-GERMAIN IN1658 . . . .214 

After a drawing by P6relle. 

THE PALAIS-ROYAL AND THE TUILERIES 282 

After a plan by Bullet in 1676. 

THE CARMELITES OF THE RUE D'ENFER 308 

After a contemporary water-colour drawing. 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIBRE . . . . . . • . . 318 

From the picture at Versailles, described as Elizabeth of Bavaria. 

LA DUCHESSE DE LA VALLIERE AND HER CHILDREN . . 32O 

After the pictiure by P. Mignard, in the collection of the Marquise d'Oilliamson. 

FACSIMILE. CONTRACT FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF GROTTOES AT 

THE CASTLE OF SAINT-GERMAIN 242 

SISTER LOUISE DE LA MISERICORDE ...... 346 

After a painting in the collection of Comte Esdouhard. 

SISTER LOUISE DE LA MISERICORDE ON HER DEATH-BED . . 382 

From the Obituary at Port- Royal. 



FIRST PART 

1644 — 1663 



CHAPTER I 

1644 — 1659 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE was born at Tours 
on August 6, 1644. Her father was Laurent 
de La Baume Le Blanc, and her mother, Frangoise 
Le Provost de la Coutelaye, Laurent was a knight, 
Captain-Lieutenant of the mestre-du-camp of the Light 
Cavalry — a rank corresponding to that of Major in a 
crack regiment. He added to his family-name that 
of La Valliere, which he derived from a little manor 
situated in the parish of Reugny, five or six leagues 
west of Amboise. The birth of Louise in the capital 
of Touraine is explained by the fact that the La Baume 
Le Blanc family possessed a house there, called " de la 
Crouzille," the facade of which was ornamented by 
a large wide shell, like that which Greek artists placed 
under the feet of Venus rising from the sea.^ The 
sculptors of the Renaissance affected this embellish- 
ment, and it was to their delicate art that Louise de La 
Valliere's ancestors had entrusted the decoration of 
their abode. By a curious instance of juxtaposition, 
the house was next door to the Carmelite Convent ! 

The child was baptized on August 7, in the neigh- 
bouring church of Saint-Saturnin. The godfather 
was Pierre Le Blanc, Lord of La Roche, and Privy 

^ Our learned confrere, M. Ch. de Grandmaison, has proved that this 
house, which was of some size, had an entrance in the Grande-Rue 
(rue de Commerce). See Tours archeologique, p. 228. 

3 



4 Louise dc La Valli^re 

Councillor ; the godmother, Louise de La Baume Le 
Blanc, widow of Michel d'Evrard, Captain of Light 
Horse.^ Both belonged to the paternal family of the 
little girl, who was named Fran^oise-Louise. The 
second name was the one she was called by. 

Louise sprang from a family which abounded in 
examples of honourable and devoted conduct. The 
Le Blancs came of good old stock. The estate of La 
Baume, the cradle of the family, is situated in the 
parish of Veurdre, district of Lurey, arrondissement 
of Moulins. "It is a little village nestling on the 
left bank of the Allier, in the midst of a well-wooded 
district near the mouth of the picturesque little river 
Bieudre." The Romans had inhabited that part of the 
country, and in the Middle Ages a fortress had been 
built there, doubtless to guard the navigation of the 
river. The name of the proprietors of Baume was Le 
Blanc, and they were usually called the Blancs of Baume. 

One of them, Perrin Le Blanc, had the honour of 
serving under Joan of Arc.^ From him descended 
the Baume Le Blancs who settled first near Paris, at 
Choisy-sur-Seine, then definitely in Touraine, the 
estate and titles of La Baume in the Bourbonnais 
having deviated from their family towards 1 570. 

It was Laurent, second of the name, Lord ofChoisy, 
who purchased, on September 5, 1542, the fief of La 
Valliere, a very small demesne oi 130 acres, which 
he enlarged a little by adding to it the de la Roche 
and du Puy estates. The du Puy transaction cost 
him 8,500 livres tournois, equivalent to fifty or sixty 

^ Baptismal certificate of Louise de La Valliere (La Valifere), 
published by P. Clement, with his Reflexions sjir la misei'icorde de 
Dieu, V. n. p. 188. Paris: Techener, i860. 

^ 'L&tte.rs-^a.t.exxi oi ih.& dtiche-pairie of La Valliere, February, 1723, 
cited by Le Brun, Les Ancetres de La Valliere, p. 35. This book is 
full of new documents, the fruit of long research. We must mention 
also a work by M. Gabeau on the inventory drawn up in 1742 of the 
charters of the Castle of La Valliere. La Valliere^ etc. : Tours, 1903. 





Bot^h^mvA^mnziw^l 




HOTEL DE LA CROUZILLE, TOURS, AT THE PRESENT DAY. 



Louise de La Vallifere 5 

thousand francs in modern money. Laurent died, in 
a ripe old age, at Tours, but by his own request he 
was buried in his beloved church at Reugny, His 
son, Jean Le Blanc, entrenched the La Valli^re home- 
stead, and provided it with drawbridges (May 13, 
1579). He was then maitre d' hotel to Catherine de 
Medicis ; and his wife, Charlotte Adam, was made 
her lady-in-waiting. He was Mayor of Tours in 
1588, and honoured by the confidence of Henri IIL and 
Henri IV. He made a fortune, and died about 161 5. 

His grand-nephew, Jean, sieur de la Gasserie, 
Equerry-in-Ordinary of the petite ecurie du roi. Gen- 
darme of Monseigneur le Dauphin's Company, married 
Fran9oise de Beauvau, the daughter of Jacques de 
Beauvau du Rivau, Knight of the Order of the King, 
Gentleman-in-Ordinary of the Royal Household, and 
of dame Fran^oise le Picart. This latter remarried, 
in later years, Jacques de I'Hopital, Comte de Choisy, 
Captain of the Fifty Men-at-Arms of King Henri IV. 
Of this new union was born the celebrated Madame 
de Choisy, who will have a part to play in our 
narrative, since she was the means of introducing 
Louise de La Valliere to Court. 

Jean did well for his descendants in ensuring for 
them the possession of the name of La Baume Le Blanc, 
which was accorded him, though the La Baume estate 
had passed into other hands. He also arranged that 
the arms of his ancestors should be retained " on the 
keystone of their ancient chapel in the church of 
Veurdre, so as to preserve in perpetuo the knowledge of 
the origin and extraction of the said family of Le Blanc." ^ 

The military traditions left by Perrin had long 
since been revived by many members of the family. 

1 M. Le Brun has published, and has permitted us to reproduce, 
a photograph of this keystone, as well as several other views of the 
old Castle of the La Baume Le Blancs, which now belongs to him. 
We desire to thank him publicly for his great courtesy. 



6 Louise de La Valli^re 

Gaillard Le Blanc, after having distinguished himself 
on the battle-fields of Marignan and Pavia, had met 
his death at the battle of Sainte-Brigide. The grand- 
uncle of our Louise, Laurent Le Blanc, is said to 
have died at the Siege of Ostend, on March 15, 1602. 
Of her uncles, three had lost, or were to lose, their 
lives in the service of their country. One, Charles, 
died at the Siege of Spire ; the second, Louis, at 
that of Damvilliers ; the third, Francois, was killed 
before Lerida, in 1647. 

The father of Louise showed himself worthy of 
these glorious traditions. At the Passage of Brai, 
in the campaign of 1634, he had borne alone the 
brunt of the enemy's attack, and covered and assured 
the retreat of the army. On May 20, 1635, the 
day of Avein, he broke through the ranks of the 
Spanish general, Lamboi. The year before his daughter's 
birth, Laurent distinguished himself at Rocroi. Al- 
ready the father of a two-year-old son, he came, at 
the end of this successful campaign, to enjoy a period of 
rest at Touraine ; and it was in the month of August 
of the following year (1644) that Louise was born. 

Heroes rarely make their fortunes, and at this 
time the demesne of La Valliere, so far from increasing, 
was diminishing day by day. Any one who had then 
been inclined to guess at the future of the little girl, 
would have imagined her, sixteen or eighteen years 
thence, " taking the vows," or else marrying some 
officer of light-horse — especially as Laurent, renouncing 
the active life of the camp, and now appointed Lieu- 
tenant of the Amboise district, had turned into a 
veritable country-gentleman. He styled himself Knight, 
and Lord of La Valliere.^ He even managed to 

^ Jean de La Baume Le Blanc, sieur de la Gasserie, took the title 
of La Valliere after the death of his elder brother, Laurent. He 
was Steward-in-ordinary to the King, and Lieutenant of Amboise 
He died May 27, 1647. 



W'y /^-t: 



^^^_^,^,^j^«'»i'» ** mwlfewji „ 




:>^&: 









The old Tower. 




Courtyard. 
RUINS OF THE OLD CASTLE OF LA BAUME, IN BOURBONNAIS. 



Louise de La Valli^re 7 

have the modest demesne elevated into a Marquisate, 
though the procedure was not completed until after 
his death. At any rate, his daughter grew from 
childhood to girlhood partly in the castle at Amboise, 
where the various styles of architecture, all of 
them impressive, prepared her imagination for Royal 
splendours, and partly in the manor of La Valli^re 
— small, but very pleasant, and eminently sympathetic 
to the dreams of youth. 

The habitation of the La Baume Le Blancs is 
situated on a little hill between the valley — la valliere, 
whence it takes it name — and the comparatively ex- 
tensive Vale of Brenne. There, in former days, had 
stood a feudal castle, with ditches, moat, and dungeon. 
All that remained of that warlike construction were 
some walls and a crenellated gate, flanked by two 
towers — within which, nevertheless, a charming pavilion, 
exquisitely ornamented, had been built, probably by 
some architect accepting a holiday-task after the great 
works at Chambord or at Blois. There is an en- 
chanting view from the windows of the manor-house. 
Verdant meadows lie at the foot of the gentle slope, 
and there, between tall poplars, runs the little river 
whose waters turn the wheel of the inevitable mill. 
A little farther on, on the flank of the other hill, is 
the village of Reugny, with its sharp-steepled church. 
To the left lies the manor of La Cote, another La 
Baume Le Blanc abode, and the whole fair picture 
is framed in vineyards, copses, and clumps of secular 
oak-trees. Nature all around seems smiling — and 
smiling her most captivating smile, as if she wanted 
to keep always near her those fortunate beings over 
whose birth she had presided. 



One feels that the La Vallieres loved this little 



8 Louise de La Valli^rc 

territory ; they certainly loved their home, and de- 
voted themselves to its interior embellishment. Two 
mantelpieces still exist, covered with most interesting 
paintings. Little Louise had quaint pictures where- 
with to amuse her youthful curiosity. One of these 
mantelpieces — that on the ground-floor — represents 
this very valley of Reugny, the church, the winding 
river, with the Castle on the right. In the centre 
are peasants, some of whom are dancing in a ring, 
while others are walking about. 'Tis the Parish-Feast 
— a scene of rural glee. 

The sides of the mantelpiece are decorated by 
four allegorical figures, three women and a man. 
The man is in late sixteenth-century costume, 
and bears the legend Cineres mediteris et urnam. 
The woman, on the opposite side, has near her 
a little Love, and this inscription : Sit tibi surda 
Venus} 

The mantelpiece on the first floor has a diff^erent 
subject. It is an open-air scene in the little Court 
of a provincial nobleman. On the left is the master 
of the house ; near him are his wife and another 
female figure ; on the right, groups of female de- 
pendants — peasant-women and chamber-maids. In the 
midst of these, a young girl stands holding a dog, 
in what the description calls *' a coquettish attitude." 
A Cupid, under a tree to the left, appears to be 
aiming his dart at her through a target. M. I'Abbe 
Bossebeuf inclines to the belief that the figures are 
all portraits, the master of the house being Jean 
Le Blanc, and the lady Charlotte Adam. The young 
coquette would then be Marie Adam, sister of Char- 
lotte, whom Laurent Le Blanc, second of the name, 

1 We take this information from a communication made by M. I'Abbe 
Bossebeuf to the Bulletin of the Societe archeologique de Touraine, 
(May 22, igoi). 



Louise de La Vallifere 9 

married some years later. Some go so far as to 
attribute the paintings to Francois Clouet.^ 

Finally — and comparatively recently — there was found 
at La Valli^re, and restored to its proper place, a Latin 
inscription, also designed for a mantelpiece, and no 
less worthy of attention than these paintings. Ad prin- 
cipem ut ad ignem amor indissolubilis (" For the prince, 
as for the altar-fire, our love is indissoluble "). What 
a singular hazard it was which placed this device — as it 
were for an appeal to her curiosity ! — before the gaze 
of a little girl who was to love a Prince and love him 
only, until the hour when, repentant of this one weak- 
ness, she bound herself to God by vows that were 
indeed indissoluble ! 

Louise was still quite a child when, in March 1651, 
the din of war broke out upon the tranquil banks of 
the Loire. The King, Louis XIV., his mother, Anne 
of Austria, and his minister, Mazarin, hunted from 
Paris by the Fronde, were beginning an offensive 
return, and advancing upon Amboise and Blois. Louis 
was then fourteen and a half. Though his majority 
had been declared on September 7 of the preceding 
year, he was in reality nothing but a physically well- 
developed boy, good at athletic exercises, but, on the 
other hand, very ignorant, indeed almost uneducated. 
Naturally, he took no part in the direction of affairs, 
but he already felt the inconvenience and the penury to 
which these revolts exposed him, and he remembered 
them to the end of his life. 

The apparent head of the Fronde was his uncle 
Gaston, Duke of Orleans, a prince as ambitious as he 
was irresolute, and the father of a daughter still more 

* Madame de Lamotte, the proprietor of the La Valliere demesne, 
has been kind enough to give us some very useful information, and 
we are happy to offer her here our warmest thanks. Between the 
words amor and indissolubilis is a monogram, probably that of the 
Le Blancs, 



lo Louise de La Valli^re 

ambitious than himself, and of very determined 
character. Mademoiselle d'Orleans desired to be 
Queen of France — to marry, despite her twenty-five 
years, this King of fourteen and a half ! Despairing 
of success by peaceful methods, she resolved to put the 
pistol to his head. Finding the men of her party too 
lukewarm for her taste, and desirous of keeping the 
Court and Mazarin out of Paris, she went into the 
field herself, and attempted to capture Amboise, which 
would have given her an excellent position on the 
left bank of the Loire. But M. de Sourdis, Governor 
of the Orleans district, lent but a listless ear to her 
propositions, and Laurent de La Valli^re, Sourdis' 
Lieutenant, guarded the place so well that he kept 
it for the lawful Prince — that Prince, who, later 
on . . . But later on, the honest soldier was dead.^ 
Laurent died, in fact, in the course of the summer 
of 1651.^ His widow, Fran^oise Le Provost, daughter 
of Jean, Lord of La Coutelaye, Equerry of the grande 
kurie du roi^ and of Elizabeth Martin de Mauroi,^ had 
married, as her first husband, Besnard, Lord of Rezay,^ 
Member of the Parliament. She was thus tolerably 
well off, and according to her contract (November 20, 

^ 1649. " The town of Amboise will take defensive measures. All 
the gates of the town will be guarded." By order. Laurent de La 
Baulme Le Blanc, Lieutenant of the King. — 165 1. February 2. 
Assembly of the citizens of Amboise, under the presidency of Laurent 
Le Blanc, Knight, Lord of La Valliere. — 1652. Letters of Louis XIV., 
given at Blois, March 22, warning the citizens of Amboise that the 
enemy is desirous of seizing the fords of the Loire. M. I'Abbe 
Chevalier. Inventaire analytique des archives niunicipales d Amboise, 
pp. 108, 9, 10. Cf. Mile. DE MoNTPENSiER, Memoires, II, 275. 

^ We were mistaken, in preceding editions, in assigning Laurent's 
death to the year 1654. An authentic document — an inventory drawn 
up in September, 165 1 — shows that Laurent was dead at that period; 
and as he was at Amboise on February 2, 165 1, his death must have 
taken place between the March and the September of that year. 

* Saint-Allais, Nobiliaire universe!, v. XIII. p. 179, gives, errone- 
ously, " de Maudroy." 

* Parish of Chemill6-sur-Indrais, district of Montr6sor, arrondisse' 
ment of Loches, 



Louise de La Valli^re ii 

1640) she had brought to Laurent de La Valliere 
a capital of 60,562 livres (almost 15,000 francs a 
year in modern money), besides certain personal 
property. 

Thoroughly acquainted as she was with his affairs, 
she did not take long to realise that her second 
husband had left more glory than money behind him. 
Her first step, therefore, was to reclaim her personal 
estate. To her 60,000 livres were added a jointure of 
6,000 livres^ besides her personal property, and 2,000 
livres for her mourning and that of her household, for 
her carriage, and for her installation at La Valliere. 
She would be obliged to relinquish, in taking this 
step, the guardianship of her children ; but she was 
not thinking of their interests. The fact was that 
she still felt herself a young woman, and was contem- 
plating a third marriage. 

On September 23, 1651, she appeared before Georges 
Catinat, Privy Councillor and Lieutenant-^General of 
Touraine, and declared that, for the preservation of 
her matrimonial rights, she desired to renounce her 
joint proprietorship with her late husband, and also 
the guardianship of her children.^ A family-council 
instantly assembled, composed of Pierre de La Baume 
Le Blanc, Esquire, Lord of La Roche, formerly Privy 
Councillor, President of the Bench at Tours, and 
Louise's godfather, and of Julien Chalopin, Esquire, of 
La Boidrie, Privy Councillor, and Comptroller-General 
of Finance, in the generalite of Tours. These were 
the grand-uncles of the two minors, Jean-Francois and 
Louise-Fran^oise de La Baume Le Blanc. They 

1 This valuable document, belonging to the Record Office at Tours, 
has been generously communicated to us by our learned confrere, 
Monsieur J. Lemoine, the author of a book as interesting as it is well- 
documented : De La Valliere a Montespan, published by Calmann- 
Levy. We are anxious to express here our warm acknowledgment of 
his kindness, 



I? Louise dc La Valli^re 

were given as coadjutors Andre Couldreau, of 
Planchevin, Treasurer of France, of the geniralite 
of Tours, and Fran9ois Joubert, of La Borde, both 
neighbours, in default of resident relations. The 
assembly immediately elected Pierre de La Baume 
Le Blanc trustee for the inventory and the suits-at- 
law brought by the mother against her children. The 
case was opened before Gatien Pommier, Royal Notary 
at Reugny, assisted by Pierre Chevallier, a master- 
broker at Tours; and on Monday, the 25th of the 
same month, was begun the inventory of the personal 
property left by Laurent. 

A summary of this curious document will give an 
idea of what Reugny then was — a little castle, or 
rather a small country-seat, where, amongst various 
ancient splendours, were included a quantity of things 
which had been worn out in the service of three or 
four generations. We find therein descriptions of 
the rooms of the dead man, his wife, their son 
Francois, and their daughter Louise. It is an in- 
teresting side-light upon the life of the smaller nobility 
at that period. 

On the ground-floor, in the first almost empty 
room, we notice "a backgammon-board and pieces," 
valued at 12 livres^ and a tapestry-hanging, 30 livres. 
In the next room, described as " a large reception- 
room," is a walnut-wood expanding-table, 60 sous ; 
a bed with draped tester, quoted at 150 livres ; two 
curtains in red camlet, " hanging in the windows " ; 
six chairs, six folding-chairs, two arm-chairs, all in 
walnut-wood with covers of crimson gros de Naples^ 
120 livres. " As decoration " : a Turkey-carpet, with 
yellow ground, measuring three ells {aunes') and a 
half, 30 livres ; another of an ell and a half, 6 livres ; 
finally, a tapestry-hanging, consisting of eight pieces 
of about twenty-four ells, 800 livres. A mirror. 




Entrance. 




Exterior view. 
CHATEAU DE REUGNY. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 13 

framed in black wood, and embellished with silver 
plates, completed the decorations. 

In a room " on the other side of the large reception- 
room " were two arm-chairs, and six folding-chairs, 
upholstered in yellow damask (35 livres)^ and a 
German cabinet in ebony, having two wings, closing 
with lock and key, 50 livres. A large mirror framed 
in ebony, with its upholding cords, 90 livres ; two 
crimson, and two green, velvet cushions, 1 8 livres for 
the four. Two more were valued at 25 sous apiece, 
and finally came a painting of the Presentation of Saint 
Joseph, 8 livres. 

These were the state-apartments. 

A passage or corridor, decorated with six oil- 
paintings, framed in black wood and representing 
different forms of sport, separated the servants' 
quarters from the more aristocratic portion of the 
house ; and in the servants' hall were to be seen, 
together with weapons of various kinds, nine paintings 
in distemper, representing groups of people, and valued 
at ^o sous. 

On the first floor, the high-ceiiinged room, looking 
towards Neuilly,^ was furnished with a certain degree 
of luxury. A tapestry-carpet, 15 livres ; a bed in 
walnut-wood, with its accessories — a flock-mattress, and 
two blankets ; on this bedstead a scarlet tester, composed 
of three valances and three curtains, the whole relieved 
with gold embroideries, and a counterpane in quilted 
taffeta — valued altogether at 1 50 livres. A second bed, 
also with a three-valanced and three-curtained tester 
with head- board, all in crimson and gold gros de 
Naples^ relieved with embroideries in white taffeta, 
was priced at 85 livres. Round it stood six folding- 
chairs with red velvet covers, 30 livres ; while a 

' Perhaps Neuille-le-Lierre, on the Brenne, to the north of La 
Valliere. 



14 Louise dc La Valli^re 

mirror with black wood frame was 8 livres. Along 
the walls was a tapestry-hanging, with design of 
foliage, eight pieces, measuring twenty-four or twenty- 
five ells, 600 livres. This was evidently the room of 
the master and mistress of La Valliere. 

In the garrets, in a room tucked under the roof, 
the inventory mentions a wooden table at 30 sous^ 
another at 50, and a bed which was valued at 33 livres 
complete. Along the walls, three coffers : one con- 
taining the wearing-apparel of the late Laurent's homme 
de chambre ; the second, that of Jean Peniceau, tutor 
to his son Jean-Francois ; and the third, that of Jean- 
Frangois himself. Such, in its utter simplicity, was the 
bedroom of the future Marquis de La Valliere ! 

On the same floor, at the other end of the garrets, 
was a second room. Round its walls hung a Bergamese 
tapestry, measuring about sixteen ells; there was a 
big bed of old oak, valued at 40 sous ; bolster, pillows, 
crimson flock-mattress, red wool blanket striped with 
black, valance, three curtains, two head-valances, and a 
head-board, 15 livres. The bed, complete, was worth 
25 livres 5 sous. In the same room were three little 
beds priced at 40 sous apiece, with their accessories, 
12 livres ; an oak table on two trestles, 10 sous ; six 
wooden chairs with straw seats, 20 sous ; a pair of 
iron fire-dogs, a sort of little fender, and a pair of 
tongs, completed the furnishing. As in the preceding 
room, three trunks stood against the wall. The first, 
with lock and key, contained some holland chemises, 
belonging to the widow. The second and third held 
also some chemises, besides other hnen and wearing- 
apparel. And that was Louise de La Valliere's 
wardrobe ! 

This garret, with its big antique bed, was evidently 
an ancestral chamber, converted into a children's 
dormitory, where little Louise, then aged seven, slept 



Louise de La Valli^re 15 

with some old nurse, and spent unwittingly the 
happiest days of her life. Modest as the daughter's 
wardrobe was, her father's was scarcely more luxurious. 
Eight holland shirts, quoted at 5 livres each ; a cross- 
belt embroidered in gold and silver, 25 livres ; a 
scarlet cloak with buttons and trimmings of gold and 
silver, 20 livres. In this honest soldier's room, there 
are some weapons to be described — two swords, priced 
at 20 and 40 sous ; four old pistols, 50 sous ; a musket 
"mounted in the German fashion," 12 livres ; a gun 
a trois peds^ 8 livres ; a pair of pistols mounted in 
silver, some halberds and other arms which might have 
been used in the time of Francis L ; a suit of armour, 
with armlets and cap, 6 livres. The whole pile of 
old clothes belonging to this Lieutenant of the King 
was not worth 120 livres. On the other hand, the 
library — forty-four folio volumes, and a hundred and 
ninety-eight quartos and octavos — was estimated at 
150 livres. Although no valuation was taken of the 
clothing worn by Fran9oise Le Provost and her children, 
the valuators thought it their duty to include in the 
inventory a velvet dress, lined with green woollen- 
velvet (panne), and trimmed with buttons with gold 
and silver stems, valued at 200 livres, and a cap of 
white satin trimmed with gold and silver lace, 3 livres. 

There were few works of art — a tapestry-hanging 
with groups of figures was the only thing of any 
value. It was priced at 500 livres, but it was at Tours. 

There was a silver tray, used as a henitier, with a 
chased JMadonna — 20 livres. A little picture, like a 
sort of reliquary, enriched with gilded copper, repre- 
senting an Annunciation — 20 livres. Another small 
picture, framed in ebony, representing a shrub and a 
Madonna — 100 sous. The principal item of personal 
property consisted of 230 marcs ^ and four ounces 

' An old French weight. (Translator's note). 



1 6 Louise dc La Valliferc 

of silver plate, valued at 26 livres the marc : 6,023 
livres. 

Finally, the inventory shows "a carriage, lined 
blue-grey cloth, with its curtains and harness," 150 
livres ; another little carriage, " such as it is," lined 
with serge, with its harness, 60 livres ; four old chest- 
nut carriage-horses, valued at about 100 livres. A 
black horse — doubtless Laurent de La Valli^re's mount 
— 150 livres ; four others, quoted at 85 livres for 
the four. A donkey — their rustic steed and, we may 
be sure, the joy of the children — was valued at 10 
livres. The " best " carriage had been left at Tours : 
it was lined with red velvet, and estimated at 200 
livres. There are details which would lead one to 
believe that for some time the La Valli^res had not 
been living in the house at Tours, and had, indeed, 
partly sublet it. . . To sum up, when the cattle in 
the stables, the wine in the cellars, and so on, were 
included, the total came to 18,335 livres, 7 sous. 

We now come to the statement of debts due. 
These were of every kind — and some of them pressing : 
such as debts to old servants, who for years had left 
their wages in their master's hands. At first sight 
the total did not seem to be more than 12,575 livres^ 
but it soon became evident that another lot to the 
same amovmt was also due, so that the whole sum 
owing rose to 25,000 livres. 

Fran^oise Le Provost then intervened, and pro- 
posed to take the furniture at the inventoried price, 
augmented by 20 deniers ^ in each livre. The family 
consented to that, regarding it as a point of honour 
that the Castle of La Valliere should not be dismantled. 
The lady was, moreover, to pay her husband's debts — 
about 25,000 francs — with a claim, however, against 
the Abb6 de La Valliere, uncle of the minors, for 

' An old French coin. 



Louise de La Valli^re 17 

all debts of his which could be proved. In any case, 
these minors were to pay their mother the interest 
of her claims on them, at the rate of five per cent. 

The two children, in fact, were stripped as naked 
as little Saint Johns ! The widow stated to the 
council that it was now nearly time to send Francois 
to school, and that he must have a tutor and a 
servant-man ; and that in a year or two Louise also 
would require a personal servant — -fille de suite (as 
such a person was called, except in Paris, where the 
term suivante had long been adopted). Naturally 
these expenses would be reckoned among those which 
carried interest. This clause inspired the council with 
notions of strict economy : the boy's household was 
established upon the diminished footing of 1,500 
livres a year, and that of Louise upon a third of that 
sum. Thus, as we see, the chains of debt weighed 
down the son and daughter of Laurent de La Valliere 
from their earliest childhood. 

Laurent had been given a representative in the 
Lieutenancy of Amboise. Thanks to the admirable 
defence of the place, the somewhat distracted force 
which, in 1652, took the title of "Royal Army," 
was able without excessive difficulty to reascend the 
Loire and get as far as Orleans, which town however 
still refused it admission. " La Grande Mademoiselle," 
who held the keys, thought well to explain the reasons 
of her conduct to the principal valet-de-chambre of 
Louis XIV., who was on his way to rejoin his master ; 
and she added that a certain means of regaining peace 
would be to give her that small monarch for a husband. 
Much honoured by her confidence, the simple fellow 
hastened to propose the expedient to the Queen- 
mother, and drew down upon himself the striking 
reply " that the King was not made for Mademoiselle 
to poke her nose into, however long it might be." 



1 8 Louise de La Valli^re 

Our story will show the consequences of this last 
attempt of the Fronde both for the Princess of Orleans, 
now a mature young lady, and for the innocent 
eight-year-old Louise de La Valliere, who may at this 
time have seen the royal youth, Louis XIV., as he 
passed beneath some castle from the battlements of 
which she was gazing. The Court was never to 
forgive Mile de Montpensier her bellicose freak 
of 1652, and she was never to forget that the gates 
of Amboise had been shut against her. The following 
year she passed through the town pacifically, and 
was magnificently received, guns being fired in her 
honour — but in vain ! Her rancour lasted while she 
lived. ^ 

This same year, towards the end of the month of 
August, the roads were scarcely open before a very 
singular little party arrived at the ancient castle of 
Louis XII. In a carrying-chair, a small, sickly, de- 
formed man, physically impotent but mentally alert, 
was groaning and jesting at the same moment ; behind 
him, in a sort of coach, came a handsome young 
woman, who seemed resigned to her fate. They 
were *' Monsieur Scarron, burlesque-author " and 
Mile d'Aubigne, his wife, whom he had married 
" in friendship " six months before. The newly 
married pair were on their way to America, and, while 
waiting to embark, they stopped at a httle domain 
about half a league from the town, in the parish 
of Negron, which, by an odd coincidence, was called 
the Manor of La Valliere. There, between the 
pleasant hill-country of Nazelle and the majestic slopes 
of Amboise — there, on that fair isle of the Loire, under 
the reddening autumn-foliage, Scarron, driven from 
the capital by his hatred for his mother-in-law and the 
miseries of his own existence, began to feel a llittle 
1 Mile DE Montpensier, Menwires, v. II. p. 275. 



Louise de La Valli^re 19 

better, and, as he did so, to regain something of his 
lost affection for his own country. Calmed and 
restored, he went back to Paris, taking with him the 
young wife — gossips said, the " friend " merely — who 
was one day to be known as Madame de Maintenon.^ 

On August 28, 1654, Fran^oise Le Provost styled 
herself haute et puissante dame in a baptismal certificate 
at Amboise ; but in the month of October following, 
Gaston, the father of Mademoiselle, appointed a gentle- 
man called Olivier his Lieutenant at the Castle in that 
town — in other words, the office was ravished from the 
La Vallieres.^ This was a warning for the proud, 
mercenary woman. The most consolable of widows, 
she soon forgot the Lord of La Valli^re for Jacques 
de Courtarvel, Marquis of Saint-Remi, First Steward to 
Gaston d'Orleans (March 6, 1655). 

There were reasons, however, why this union had 

^ LoRET, Muze histofique, v, I. p. 252. Edition Livet. June, 1652. 

" Ledit personnage 
Ayant contract6 mariage 
Avec une epouse, ou moiti6, 
Qu'il a prise par amiti6." 

Id. Ibid. V. I. p. 295. October, 1652. " Luy dans une chaize, elle 
en coche." Scarron had been intending to depart ever since December 
1651 (LoRET, ibid. V. I. p. 193) with an old woman-friend, "the 
amiable Sister Celeste." Monsieur Lavallee {Correspondatice generate 
de Madame de\Maintenon^ v. I. p. 65), quotes a letter from M. de 
M6re in which this voyage of Scarron's is mentioned. He gives it 
the date of 1656. This is wrong. See a letter from Scarron to 
Madame de Fiesque, in the Dertiie?-es CEuvres de Monsieur Scarron, 
V. I. p. I (Paris, 1709) — written about March 1652. See also a letter 
to Monsieur Sarrazin, ibid. p. 8. See l'"Abb6 Chevalier, Guide en 
Touraine, p. 142 ; Inventaire analytique des archives municipales 
d^ Amboise, p. 295 ; and Le Poete Scarron a Ne'gron in the Soc. arch, de 
Touraine, Bull. I. 35.' 

^ After the month of October, 1654, Gaston appointed this gentleman 
Olivier to the Castle of Amboise. On August 28, 1654, hatite et 
puissante dam,e, Fran^oise Le Provost, widow of Messire Laurent Le 
Blanc, Esquire, sieur of La Valliere, Baron de la Papelardiere, Lieu- 
tenant of the King in the Government of Amboise, is cited as god- 
mother in a baptismal certificate {Archives municipales d" Amboise, 
p. 295). 



20 Louise de La Valli^re 

a certain suitability. Saint-Remi ^ was a widower with 
a little daughter of the same age as Louise. He 
needed a woman's care for his child. Madame de 
La Valliere, on her side, would require the help of a 
man in bringing up her boy Jean-Francois, aged 
twelve. Saint-Remi seems to have performed this duty 
well : he increased to a thousand crowns the pension 
accorded to Laurent's children.^ The two families, 
grouped into one, rejoined the Court which Mon- 
seigneur, the King's uncle, held at Blois, whither he had 
retired after the last check suffered by the Fronde. 

Louis XII., Francis I., and Gaston himself had suc- 
cessively erected sumptuous constructions, in varying 
styles, upon the site of the dungeon and the Court of 
Honour of the old Castle of the Counts of Blois. In 
front of the fa9ade — called Louis XII. 's — was the first 
enclosure, the hasse-cour. Vast servants' quarters, a 
church built in the eleventh century, the abode of the 
canons connected with it, quarters for the Count's 
officers, the house of George of Amboise, the mansion 
of the Due d'Epernon, and that other mansion where 
Richelieu had the Prince de Vendome arrested in June, 
1626, surrounded the castle, forming a picturesque 
ring, as it were, of memory-haunted and uninhabitable 
houses.^ It was to this place that Courtarvel and the 
La Vallieres came to take up their abode in April, 1655, 
in a house which was let to them for 200 livres a year 
by Messire Bourdonneau, Incumbent of Saint-Eustache 
in the Church of Saint-Sauveur. Four years later, 
Gaston's maitre-d'' hotel found himself more cramped 

^ Saint-Remi's wife had been N. de Langan-Boisfevrier, of a noble 
and ancient Breton family (Saint-Allais, Nobiliaire universel 
V. XIII p. 179). See Lemoine and Lichtenberger, De La Valliere 
a Montespan, p. 46. 

^ Le Pere Anselme, Histoire genealogique, v. V. p. 195. 

^ Les Residences royales de la Loire, by Loiseleur, p. 72. Paris, 
1863. 



Louise de La Valli^re 21 

in circumstances, and rented in the same enclosure 
(^basse-cour) part of a house — consisting of a reception- 
room looking out upon the courtyard, a lofty room 
with a wardrobe in it, and a garret above, for 120 livres 
a year.-' 

The Courtarvels, in short, were pulling the devil 
by the tail ! We find them selling, conjointly with 
Jehan Lambert, Judge and Magistrate in the Bailiwick 
and Bench of Blois, 66 livres 18 sous 4 deniers worth 
of stocks raised upon their estate and manor of Rameau 
and Bois Reimbourg, in the parish of Lauge. A 
burgess, Pierre Chevalier, bought this stock for his 
grand-daughter Anne, for 1,200 livres toumois^ money 
down ; and at the same time and before the same 
notary, Courtarvel and his wife bound themselves to 
protect Lambert from any consequences resulting from 
a deed which he had signed only at their request and 
to do them a favour. In other words, it was simply 
an act of benevolence on his part towards needy friends, 
who could have got no money on their own signatures, 
nor on the Rameau property. 

And yet life was certainly not extravagant at the 
quiet Court of Blois. Monsieur, turned religious, was 
living in exile less from necessity than from choice. 
With him dwelt Marguerite de Lorraine, his second 
wife. This Princess, a virtuous woman but a cold 
wife, and the irritated step-mother of an insupportable 
step-daughter,^ was the real mother of three charming 
girls, for whom she cared little. She thought of 
nothing but her devotions, " yet punctuated her 
prayers with continual meals, by way of curing herself 

^ Minute of Lespine, Notary at Blois, November ii, 1659. Copy 
communicated by M. Leraoine, archivist-paleographer. 

^ See a charming piece of verse in the miscellaneous manuscript 
works of M. de Paulmy, quoted by M. de la Saussaye, in his Histoire 
du chdteau de Blois. See also, by the same author, Notice sur le 
chateau de Blois, p. 82. 



22 Louise dc La Valli^re 

of the vapours, which were much increased thereby," 
She saw her daughters only for a hurried ten minutes 
or so in the morning and evening, and never said a 
word to them except " Hold yourselves up ! Lift up 
your heads ! " " These young ladies loitered about their 
rooms with a lot of other little girls, and there wasn't 
a single soul of any consequence or authority to look 
after them." ^ 

Our informant here is Madame's step-daughter, 
Mile de Montpensier — "la Grande Mademoiselle" 
— and further on she expresses herself even more 
disdainfully. " There were five or six girls there," 
she says, " of all sorts and descriptions." Of these 
six, we already know two : Louise de La Valliere 
and Mile de Saint-Remi. Another, Mile Montalais, 
was later on to become notorious for her intriguing 
disposition. A fourth, Mile de Rare, was the daughter 
of the Princesses' governess. The Princesses themselves 
had been somewhat carelessly brought up. In their 
little neglected circle they talked of many things, 
indeed of most : " Children of that age are frequently 
interested in much besides their dolls." When Made- 
moiselle came to spend a few days at Blois, she 
afforded her step-sisters the diversion of amateur 
theatricals, which put the finishing-stroke to the 
turning of the already too-impressionable little heads. 
The failure of their elder had not discouraged these 
ambitious maidens ; they really hoped that one of 
them might still sit on the throne of France ! That 
was no joke to Mademoiselle, when she discovered 
it ; for, as she says in her na'ive jealousy, " One doesn't 
enjoy seeing one's younger sister set above one." But, 
once she was gone, they only dreamed the more, and 
they called Marguerite d'Orleans the " little Queen." 
Louise de La Valliere was influenced by all this 
1 Mile DE Montpensier, Memoires, v. Ill, p. 376. 



Louise de La Valli^rc 23 

budding romance. She was then nearly fourteen. 
To this year of her hfe belong two anecdotes, very 
different from one another, yet both entirely credible. 
For good or for ill, the girl had been born with the gift 
of charm. Though the Court was full of grave and 
reverend seigniors, there were attractive youths there 
as well, the sons of the Duke's officers. Next door to 
the Saint-Remis lived the Bragelongnes, and a young 
man belonging to this family saw Louise, and, having 
seen her, felt his heart stir in his breast. He said 
it, and he wrote it. There were answers, further 
declarations, more answers — a little correspondence, 
in fact, which the parents discovered and suppressed.^ 
'Tis like the blood in spring-time ; young passion has 
these outbursts, which disdain reason and die without 
leaving a pang behind. Not yet has love spoken ; 
this is but the love of love. 

The second anecdote, compared with this unconscious 
manifestation of a young and tender heart, shows the 
more customary reserve of the girl, her natural sense 
of modesty. At this time of day it is difficult to 
render shades so delicate ; therefore we think well 
to yield the floor to a long-ago biographer of our 
Louise — one who had access to private sources of 
information. . . Several young ladies, friends and 
contemporaries of Mile de La ValHere, having on 
some occasion displayed considerable lightness of con- 
duct, the Prince (Gaston d'Orleans) showed his dis- 
pleasure very plainly, and said publicly, " As for Mile 
de La Valliere, I am sure that she had nothing to do 
with it ; she is too discreet for anything of the sort." 

That much is negligible ; what follows is the 

1 Mme DE LA Fayette, Histoire de Madame Henriette^ p. 78. 
Edition of 1720 or 1742. Both have the same pagination. See also 
Saint-Allais, Nobiliaire tmiversel, v. VIII. p. 318. This particular 
Bragelongne was a son of Jacques de Bragelongne, second of the name, 
Steward of Gaston, Due d'Orleans. 



24 Louise de La Valli^rc 

important part. " She (La Valliere) has since con- 
fessed that this striking tribute from so irreproachable 
a witness to the regularity of her conduct, was for her 
a mortal injury ; it made her conceive so flattering an 
opinion of herself that she has never doubted but that 
her secret presumption was, by a just but awful 
punishment from Almighty God, the fatal cause of 
her misfortunes and her fall from grace." ^ Thus, in 
these earliest revelations, does Louise show herself 
precisely as she will be depicted in our further pages — 
sensitive, discreet, and proud ; and a little vain, 
perhaps, of her youthful discretion. 

While all these little girls at Blois were cherishing 
delightful illusions and disposing of the hand of 
Louis XIV., he, a boy of nineteen, was entering upon 
the paths which are trodden by all adolescent human 
beings. He had been blessed with the precious gift 
of vitality. Tall, healthy, sober, continent,^ entirely 
sound in body, with less regularity of feature than his 
brother Philippe, but more virile-looking, he was on 
the whole a handsome and attractive young man. In 
his adolescence, he had shown himself quick to yield 
to his passions, yet quicker still to sacrifice them to 
reason or his personal glory. If we believe the Court 
gossip, he had, like many another, made something 
of a fool of himself in his first affair — had been, in 
fact, the victim of a valetudinarian lady-veteran of 
galanterie!^ Even if they be true, these anecdotes are 

' Lettres de Madame de La Valliere. Preface, p. 4. Liege (Paris), 
1769. 

^ Guy-Patin, Lettres, v. I. p. 307 : " The King is a well-made 
Prince, tall and lusty. He drinks hardly any wine, is in no way 
dissipated, and is quite whole, sound, and untainted " (July 20, 1658). 
A passage in the Memoires of La Porte (Geneva edition, p. 290), 
Tjalet-de-chambre to the King, though insufficient as a proof against 
Mazarin, clearly reveals the profound innocence of Louis' mind. The 
Journal de la sante du roi (p. 28) is decisive on this matter. 

' Correspondance complete de Madame, duchesse dOrleans^ v, L 
pp. 269, 286, 1857 edition; Saint-Simon, Memoires, v. L p. 261 (Paris. 



Louise de La Valli^re 25 

of no importance. Everything, on the contrary, proves 
that Louis was carefully brought up by a mother who, 
if she had not much insight, was at any rate most 
devoted, and absolutely incapable of any kind of base 
connivance. 

The widow of Louis XIIL, Anne of Austria, had, 
partly perhaps from kindness, but largely from weak- 
ness, received the nieces of Mazarin at the Palais- 
Royal, and these little girls lived with her son like 
members of the same family. The time came when 
Louis fell in love, as all the young men did, with the 
pretty Italians ; and, also quite naturally, he began 
with the eldest. Olympe Mancini, a maiden of merely 
mediocre beauty, but already of opulent form, very 
quick-witted, and most forward, was then about the 
King's own age — sixteen ; so that she was relatively 
older, which was one secret of her attraction for the 
boy.^ This was first made manifest on a certain 
day in the year 1655. Anne of Austria was giving 
a small dance to amuse the Princess Henrietta of 
England, who was scarcely eleven years old. But 
Louis, who led off the ball, chose as his partner a 
cousin of Olympe Mancini, Madame de Mercoeur, also 
Mazarin's niece. The Queen, astonished at this mis- 
demeanour, hastened to her son, snatched away his 
partner, and told him in a whisper to go and invite 
the little Princess to dance. Later on she scolded 
him, upon which the boy remarked that " he didn't 
like little girls." But the childish incident had its 
serious consequences. 

Louis was seeing Olympe Mancini with eyes which 

Hachette, 1879). There was not even a flirtation between the King 
and Elizabeth de Tarneau, 165 1. See Loret, v. I. p. 107; Histoire 
amoureuse des Gaules, v. II, p. 30. The intrigue with a gardener's 
daughter had, according to Saint-Simon, more definite results ; but 
neither the fact nor the date is sufficiently attested. 
' Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, MemQires, v. IV, p, 52. 



26 Louise de La Valli^re 

seemed now for the first time to perceive, among 
many unnoticed women — the Woman. The Itahan 
girl, too young herself to be touched by this simple 
passion — and, moreover, already a calculating damsel — 
was not quite satisfied with the '' flattering hopes " it 
inspired, and preferred to the Royal flirtation, a solid 
marriage with Prince Eugene of Savoy, better known 
as the Comte de Soissons (February, 1657). The 
young King, as happens often at this inflammable 
period, accepted her marriage " without pain or 
vexation." ^ He was sent off to travel for a few 
months, from March to November, and shown the 
siege of Montmedy. In a word, when the new-made 
Mars returned to Paris for the winter-quarters,^ he 
arrived just exactly in time to stand godfather to the 
lady's first-born son. 

He was soon in love again, and more ardently than 
ever. Mile de La Motte-Argencourt, a young 
girl who had lately entered the service of the Queen- 
mother, was not distinguished by any wonderful 
beauty ; but her golden hair framed an expressive 
face, and, beneath black eyebrows, sparkled blue eyes 
that were both sweet and brilliant. She was a 
charming-looking person, and " she had an attractive 
way of speaking." Quite evidently, she was a good 
girl — too good, perhaps ! The King was captivated, 
showed it plainly, and, for the first time, " expressed 
himself like a man in love, who is no longer content 
to be reasonable." He was then nineteen, and his 
love-affairs were carefully watched. Profiting by the 
resistance of Mile de La Motte, who, though almost 
offered to the King by her mother, was defending 
herself by a sort of natural sense of right, Anne of 
Austria quickly regained her influence over her son, 

1 Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, Memoires, v. IV. p. 83. 
? LoRET, Mune kistorique, v. II. p. 104. 



Louise de La Valli^re 27 

Touched by her gentle remonstrances, Louis groaned, 
sighed, confessed in the Queen's own oratory, *' so 
that no one might know " ; then went, though it was 
the depth of winter, on a little trip to the bleak 
Castle of Vincennes, and came back resolved to have 
nothing more to do with " that girl." ^ But lo and 
behold ! two days afterwards, up she came herself 
and asked him to dance with her. The young man 
was observed to turn white and red alternately, and 
all through the dance his hand trembled in the hand 
of his partner. Anything might now have happened, 
if a strange auxiliary had not come to the support of 
the tottering Royal virtue. 

Mazarin — one prefers, just here, not to call him 
the Cardinal — after having at first hinted to his pupil 
that "a man must have his fling," suddenly changed 
his tactics entirely. Two spies,^ and, worse than that, 
the girl's own mother,^ told him all there was to 
know about the girlish intrigues of this favourite-to-be. 
Mazarin took the King aside, and hinted that the 
lovely ingenue had laughed at his passion with her 
girl-friends — perhaps with her lovers too. The 
interview lasted three hours. It is easy to imagine 
the effect of these accusations — true or false — upon 

^ " Nonobstant le temps glacial 
Louis, avec son train royal, 
A presque passe la semaine, 
Dans le froid Chateau de Vinceine 
Et monsieur I'Eminent aussy." 

La Muze hzstoriqtie, leiier oi ]3innaiy 24, 1658, v. II. p. 437. See 
PoNCET DE LA Grave, Memoires inter : pour servir a VHistoire de 
France, v. II. p. 86. 

^ La Fare names them : " Roussereau et Chamarante " {Memoires, 
ch. IV. p. 53 of the Amsterdam edition, 1749). La Fare elsewhere 
confuses La Motte-Argencourt with La Motte-Houdancourt. 

^ " Believing that, by this submission, she would gain over the 
Minister to permit the King to continue being her daughter's lover, 
and to make her fortune for her." Her daughter took no part what- 
ever in this odious arrangement (Mme DE Motteville, Memoires^ 
V. IV. p. 86). 



28 Louise de La Valli^re 

the mind of a boy of nineteen. Next day, the wily 
Minister took occasion to jest about the little in- 
cident, and said to Mile de Montpensier : " People 
talk so much that one would be most unhappy if 
one believed all one hears. Why, they actually say 
that the King is in love with Mile de La Motte, 
and that the Queen and I are in despair. I assure you 
that if we ever had been, we should have quite got 
over it by now, for I believe that fancy is already 
a thing of the past" (January 15, 1658). 

Had Mile de La Motte done something foolish ? 
Perhaps she had. But, in reality, an influence far 
stronger than that of these base denunciations was 
working upon the King's mind. He divined that 
the girl had no real feeling for him, and young Princes 
are like other young men in not loving long if they 
do not feel themselves beloved. 'Twas in any case 
a boy's passion for a "grown-up girl" — who, for her 
part, wants a " grown-up man " ! Careless historians ^ 
represent poor little La Motte as hurried into a 
convent at Chaillot, there to expiate — fi^rst in the role ! 
—her involuntary crime of having charmed a King for 
a brief hour. This forced retreat did not actually 
take place till three years later, and the King had 
nothing whatever to do with it.^ 

At nineteen, even though one be a Prince, such 
sudden disillusionments are more or less mortifying. 
The despised lover took refuge in the remembrance 

' The Memoires of Mme de la Motteville here contain an error 
which may be merely that of a copyist. Memoires, v. IV. p. 86. 

* Mme de Motteville explains this point, as she always does, better 
than any one else ; but her narrative finishes with a chronological error 
which has led astray nearly all who have copied it without comparing 
texts. Mile de Montpensier, who was writing at the same time, 
if not a little sooner, speaks of Mile de La Motte-Argencourt as 
being with the Queen-mother in 1658, and in 1660. See Memoires, 
V. III. pp. 275. 288. Walckenaer {Memoires sur Mme de Sevigne 
V. III. ch. IX,), has given too much prominence to the La Motte episode, 



Louise de La Valli^re 29 

of his first passion — that for Olympe Mancini, now 
Comtesse de Soissons, and for some time " seemed 
half-bewitched again." Six months had gone by in 
this Platonic reverie, when Louis was permitted to join 
the army which besieged Dunkirk and won the victory 
of the Dunes. It was then that he developed a 
taste for the profession of soldier and conqueror. If 
he did not experience the actual dangers of war in 
this campaign, he at any rate went through its fatigues. 
Incessantly on horseback during the hottest part of 
the summer-days, riding over burning sand or stifling 
marshes, staying out foolishly in the evening-damps 
and then returning to the pestilential fort at Mardick 
— imprudent, moreover, in his consumption of 
lemonade and sweetmeats,^ the grandson of Henri IV. 
was finally brought low by a malignant fever (June 29). 
He concealed his illness for two days, but at last 
he had to let himself be brought back to Calais. 
His whole body swelled as if he had been bitten 
by a serpent ; he was terribly enervated, terribly 
depressed.^ Feeling himself grow weaker, the Prince 
summoned Mazarin, and begged him, as the most 
sincere of his advisers, to tell him the truth : "My 
mother," said the almost dying boy, " loves me too 
dearly to let me know that I am in danger ; I 
daresay indeejd that, out of pity for her, they hold 
out hopes of my recovery. You are the only person 

and has made the mistake which we pointed out above. Amed^e 
Renee {Les Nieces de Mazarin, p. 249), has mixed up the epochs. His 
pleasant book lacks chronological accuracy, and this want of precision 
robs it of much of its value. "This accident has really no date" — 
it is all too easy to say that ! As to those authors who have con- 
fused La Motte-Argencourt and La Motte-Houdancourt — the two La 
Motte-Houdancourts, niece and daughter of the Marshal — it would be 
merely idle to cite them. ^ 

' Histoire du traite de paix concln en Van 1659. A Cologne, chez 
Pierre de la Place, 1665, p. 7. 

* Journal de la sante du rot., p. 53. 



so Louise de La Valli^re 

from whom I can ask this kindness — tell me the 
truth, so that I may put my conscience and my State 
in order." Mazarin acknowledged that God and 
nature were now his only aids — that he must commend 
his spirit to the One, and that all must do what they 
could to assist the other. Then Louis confessed, 
communicated — and awaited events.^ In this supreme 
hour, when all around him were uneasily guessing 
at the future, the dying King caught sight of a 
tall girl, who was really weeping — " weeping fit to 
kill herself" It was the Cardinal's second niece. 
Very thin, dark-skinned, with irregular but striking 
features, masses of glossy black hair, a wide forehead, 
eyes as black as her hair and astonishingly brilliant 
— such was Marie Mancini, then seventeen years old. 
Women thought her " quite ugly " ; ^ and, till that 
moment, Louis had hardly noticed the odd-looking 
Italian girl. He was therefore all the more deeply 
affected when he saw the resolute young face con- 
vulsed with grief because he was suffering. Marie 
looked sweet and good that day, and so to him she 

* Histoire du traite, etc., p. 8. This history, evidently written by 
a well-informed person, is attributed to the Count Galeazzo Gualdo 
Priorato by a German publisher. See // trattato della pace fra le due 
corone. At Bremen, 1663. 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, Memoires, v. IV. p. 89. I saw quite 
recently, at the Drouot Gallery, a portrait of Marie Mancini, which 
showed a sweet and unusually fascinating face. One had an im- 
pression of smiling, blooming loveliness. What was the explanation 
of the difference between the descriptions of 1658 and the portrait 
of, say 1661 ? A very simple one : the portrait was really of Hortense. 
See a portrait of Marie, drawn by Croizier, after Lely. 

Following the Memoires de M. L. P. M. N. Colonne, grand connetable 
du royaume de Naples, 1676, is a letter signed N. N., which is little 
more than a pen-portrait of Marie Mancini. In it, amid various 
glosses, we recognise Mme de Motteville's description. All the 
contemporary pamphleteers are unanimous in their view of her appear- 
ance. " She did not look a bit like a person of rank." " She looked 
like the landlady of an inn, but her intellect was divine " {Les 
Agremenis de la jeunesse de Louis XI V. — Le Palais-Royal. — Hist: 
amour-, des Gaules, v. II. p. 31, Boiteau edition). 



Louise de la Valli^re 3^ 

looked beautiful. . . But his fever was still running 
high. The doctors, at their wits' end, had recourse 
to a desperate remedy : " antimony, administered in 
an emetic wine." When this draught was presented 
to him in a silver goblet, the invalid inquired if the 
Cardinal advised him to take it, and on being told 
that he did: "Very well, then — give it me!"^ 
Shortly afterwards — either the remedy was effective, 
or his young vigour was invincible — Louis rose from 
bed, " a well man "... and a man in love, eager to get 
back to Paris, where the fair mourner already was. 

One of the Mancini women has left us a convincing 
little sketch of the King's change of mind. " He 
never speaks to me now," she wrote to her uncle, 
Mazarin, "ever since one night when I stayed on 
to a dance. I don't know what was the matter with 
him, unless it was that my sister and he had quarrelled, 
and were sulking ; and I took the liberty of speaking 
to him about it. I began by asking if my sister was 
in the sulks. He said she was, but then she always 
was ; and I said it didn't matter for her, but it did 
for him, and that he was in the most abominable 
temper, and it was very foolish of him, for people were 
saying all sorts of things, comparing them to two 
sulky babies, never in a good humour for a minute 
at a time. And, really, people are saying he's in love 
with her ; and, as it certainly can't be on account of 
her good looks or her cleverness, they say it must 
be because he thinks she has a better disposition than 
the rest of us. You know how spiteful people can 
be ; but it's most horribly vexing, all the same. And 
the whole evening, after I had said that, he wouldn't 

' Histoire du traite de la paix^ p. 9 ; Journal de la sante du roi, 
p. 63. Vallot does not mention a Celestin monk named Garneau, 
whom Loret gives as the inventor of emetic wine {La Mtize historique, 
July, 1658, V. II. (book IX., letter XVIII.), p. 505). 



32 Louise de La Valli^re 

speak to me, and has treated me ever since as if he 
had never known me, or seen me, in his life.'' ^ 

It is probably to Olympe Mancini, Comtesse de 
Soissons, that we are to attribute this outburst of 
barely concealed jealousy. Her sister Marie, knowing 
her power, took little notice of such criticisms. Had 
she not "a divine" — some said "a demoniac" — 
intellect ! 

The Court then went to Fontainebleau. There 
they floated on the water to the sound of violins ; they 
drove to Franchart, they visited the hermit ; in the 
evenings danced till midnight, sometimes till one in the 
morning. . . And Marie Mancini was Queen of all 
the fetes ! Audacious by nature, discreet by common 
sense, for ever thinking of her elder sister's position 
and desirous of outshining her — finally, proud of her 
influence over the young Sovereign who might place 
the crown upon her brow, she played so cleverly her 
part of loving Louis ''for himself" that the simple 
boy became utterly her slave. 

Just as in family-circles such childish mistakes are 
of little account, so the European Courts paid scant 
attention to these love-aff^airs in their anxiety to dis- 
cover an eligible bride for the King of France. All 
the Princesses were " awaiting the event of this 
selection," and three, in different ways, seemed specially 
marked out : 

The Princess Henrietta of England, daughter of 
Charles L, grand-daughter of Henri IV., beloved 
by the Queen-mother, but detested by Mazarin, 
who had managed to inspire the young King with his 
dislike ; 

The Infanta of Spain, an alliance ardently desired 

1 Bulletin de la Societe de VHistoire de France, v. I. p. 164. A. 
Renee {Les Nieces de Mazarin), attributes this letter to Olympe 
Mancini, Comtesse de Soissons. 



Louise de La Valli^re 33 

by Anne of Austria, her aunt, but unpleasing to the 
Cardinal ; 

Finally, the Princess of Savoy, who was the first 
selected, because she was connected with the Minister's 
own family. 

To examine the Cardinal's political combinations 
would take too much time. It is only necessary 
now to study the moral conditions surrounding the 
youth who was to be the future seducer of Louise 
de La Valliere. 



At the first hint of marriage — and it was a striking 
proof of his, at any rate, relative innocence ! — the 
young man quivered with delight, and immediately 
departed for Lyons, the place arranged for the inter- 
view. 

Political complications stopped him at Dijon. As 
if he had completely forgotten the object of his journey, 
we find him recommencing all his old diversions. He 
danced every evening, and ordered a wonderful colla- 
tion, almost a supper. All of a sudden, everybody 
was doing exactly as everybody liked. " They always 
began with cards. The Marquis d'Alluye and de 
Richelieu would play ; Hortense was sure to be at 
the table with Marianne, the Grand Master, and others. 
The King would talk with Mademoiselle Mancini," 
and his passion seemed to be entirely renewed. 
Suddenly there came a change. The political difficulties 
arranged themselves. They started off for the matri- 
monial interview ; of Marie Mancini, not a word 
more ! 



The King, a King of about twenty, had always 
said that he wanted a beautiful wife. The Princess 



34 Louise de La Valliere 

Marguerite scarcely answered to this youthful ideal, 
but the Cardinal (expert in everything), counting upon 
his wish for marriage, felt sure that if he saw only her 
he would be content with her. 

And indeed, wild with impatience to see his future 
bride, Louis rode to meet her, greeted her not without 
emotion, gazed at her, then, returning at a gallop 
towards his mother's carriage, "She is charming," 
he cried, *' and very like her portraits ; a little olive- 
skinned, but that doesn't spoil her — she has a beautiful 
figure." The whole Court knew that the Princess 
had a large, strongly-marked mouth, the heavy cheeks 
of the Bourbons, an unbeautiful nose, and a bad 
complexion ; but Louis saw her with the eyes of 
youth, which find every woman lovely. Seated in 
the same carriage, he talked gaily to her. She replied 
as gaily, and from the first they seemed to get on 
splendidly together. The next morning, under pretext 
of visiting the Duke of Savoy, Louis surprised the 
Princess at her toilet. She was combing her hair, 
which lay in masses on her shoulders. She seemed 
even more charming in this neglige^ and he was more 
delighted with her than ever.^ 

Everything was going on splendidly when there 
arrived mysteriously in Lyons Monsieur de Pimentel, 
Envoy from the Court of Spain, which had at last 
decided to accord, or rather perhaps to offer, the hand 
of the Infanta to the King of France. Pimentel, 
who had already written to the Prime Minister, knew 
one of Cardinal Mazarin's servants, named Colbert. 
They had an interview together. Colbert hastily in- 

^ Histoire du traite de la pair, p. 24. Mile de Montpensier writes 
of this same visit, but says it took place on a different day, and 
represents the King as quite indifferent to the Princess's charms. 
Mademoiselle, very tenacious of her rights and precedence, cannot be 
relied on to the same extent as LHistoire du traite and Mme de 
Motteville. 



Louise de La Valliere 35 

formed his master, who warned the Queen-mother, and 
she instantly commanded the King to dismiss all 
thoughts of the Princess of Savoy. 

But the young man, who was dying to be married, 
turned restive, and declared that he wished for the 
Princess, and that, after all, he was the master. Still 
more surprising, the Cardinal pretended that he did 
not in the least prefer the Infanta to anybody else ! 
Then Anne of Austria wept, pleaded, and prayed in 
all the churches that the Savoy marriage might be 
wiped out of that Heavenly Book in which, two days 
before, they had solemnly declared that it was written 
" for all eternity " ! 

At this moment, Marie Mancini reappeared upon 
the scene. Wildly jealous, she could not conceal her 
rage on seeing Louis so enthusiastic over the Princess's 
beautiful hair : " Aren't you ashamed that they should 
want you to have such a hideous wife ? " she said 
to him rudely. Immediately, to mollify the passionate 
creature, Louis began to show some coldness to the 
Princess ; indeed that very day, the Queen-mother, 
though she did not like Marie Mancini, perceived 
with pleasure the effect of her influence. They 
persuaded the young man that it was only necessary 
to substitute one fiancee for the other, and that, in 
any case, he should soon have a wife. The Duchess 
of Savoy took back her daughter, with a letter from 
the King, signed by his own hand, in which he 
promised to marry the Princess Marguerite if he could 
not have the Infanta. However, Louis seemed to 
care as little now for the Spanish girl as for the Savoy 
one. He thought of nothing but going about with 
Marie Mancini, at first in the daytime, then in 
the evening by moonlight, sometimes following her 
carriage, sometimes seated on the box acting as coach- 
man, finally entering the carriage. Marie was slightly 



3 6 Louise de La Valli^fe 

unwell, and Louis asked for news of her every day. 
Overjoyed at having broken off the Savoy marriage, 
the Queen-mother shut her eyes to it all. 

They returned to Paris. There, remembering the 
facility with which the King had accepted the first 
wife suggested to him, and surer than ever of 
her power, Marie Mancini, passionate, audacious, and 
resolute, made up her mind to become Queen of 
France. . . But what was Mazarin thinking ? Out- 
wardly he appeared to condemn. 

*' It has always been a great problem whether the 
Cardinal acted in good faith, or only opposed the 
torrent to augment its violence. I have heard the old 
Marechal de Villeroy and the late Monsieur Le 
Premier eagerly argue the point. They brought 
forward a number of reasons both for and against, 
and usually they concluded in favour of the Cardinal's 
sincerity ; not that they did not believe him to be 
sufficiently ambitious to have wished to see his niece 
Queen of France, but they also knew him to be timid, 
and incapable of going directly against the Queen- 
mother, who would have become his irreconcilable 
enemy — and that upon the uncertain asseveration of 
a man of twenty-five, who was in love for the first 
time ! Whereas, by refusing to exalt a niece whom 
he had no reason to love very tenderly (he knew 
that she was foolish enough to laugh at him from 
morning till night) — by playing the hero who despised 
a crown, he actually became a hero and a pacificator 
as well, thereby increasing his own influence, and 
entirely convincing the King of his inviolable attach- 
ment to the glory of his person, and the well-being 
of the State." 1 

As a matter of fact, Mazarin went so far as to speak 

to the Queen in an ambiguous manner of the possi- 

* Memoires de Choisy, v. I. p. 82, 1727 edition ; p. 569, Michaud edition. 



Louise de La Valli^re 37 

bility of this marriage, and it made her so uneasy that 
she actually prepared a formal protest.^ Finally the 
Cardinal made up his own mind, and protested definitely 
against the romantic scheme. 

The young man begged and besought, and offered 
formally to marry Marie. Our cold politician, incom- 
parable actor that he was, refused in such moving 
terms that one could not but believe they came from 
the heart. His niece, who was not deceived, heaped 
ironical reproaches upon the King. That had been 
so successful a method at Lvons ! " Vous etes le maitre, 
et vous pleurez^ ^ 

Louis wept ; but, tender and reasonable at once, 
he let her go (June 22, 1659). Scarcely were they 
separated than, by the help of young Vivonne, son of 
Monsieur de Mortemart, a correspondence was 
established between them. The King shut himself 

1 Ibid. — Mme de Motteville, Memoires, v. IV. pp. 144 and 151. 
The Memoires of Mme de Motteville give a number of different 
impressions upon this subject. She does not doubt that Mazarin 
had contemplated the step, and cherished some resentment towards 
the Queen for her resistance ; but then, further on, she seems to admit 
that he was quite resigned, and that this resignation was one of 
the most beautiful incidents of his life. To know the truth, we 
must await the Day of Judgment ; but Mazarin must not blame us 
if we are inclined to believe that, for one moment, he dreamt of 
being the uncle of the King ! His niece Hortense thought as we do. 

^ "It is said that she could not refrain herself, and cried: ' Vous 
pleurez et vous etes le tnaitre' '' (Mile de Montpensier, v. IV. p. 155). 
Mme de Motteville wrote this part of her book after 1666. See z'did. 
p. 312, " Vous m'azmez, sire; vous pleures ; vous vous desesperez, 
vous esies le roy, et cependant je pars" {Le Palais-Royal: Hist: 
amour: des Gaules, v. II. p. 33). This pamphlet was written about 
1665. Finally, in Marie Mancini's Memoirs we read : " Sire, vous 
etes roy, et vous niaimez, et pourtant vous souffrez que je parte}' 
" But as he did not answer, I caught one of his lace-cuffs and tore it, 
going away from him and saying, ' Ha ! I am abandoned.' Then I 
left for Italy." This last detail, chronologically erroneous, confirms 
our doubts of the authenticity of these memoirs. But they seem to be 
inaccurate more in detail than in essentials. This publication — a 
bad translation of some stolen or curtailed Italian copy — is very 
curious. Racine, in Berenice (1677), Act IV. sc. v., makes Berenice 
say to Titus : " Vous etes empereur, seigneur, et vous pleurezJ' 



38 



Louise de La Valliere 



up, and wasted more time in writing to Marie than 
he had formerly done in talking to her/ Anne of 
Austria, once informed of it, put an end to this 
affair.^ Moreover, it was decided that it would be 
well to draw nearer to the Spanish frontier and the 
Infanta, so the Court set off and proceeded to Blois, 
where, quite unknown, dwelt Louise de La Valliere. 

1 Mazarin's letter to the King, July i6, 1659. See A. Renee, Les 
Nieces de Mazarin, p. 269. While the first edition of our book was 
in the press, Monsieur Chantelauze published Louis XIV. et Marie 
Mancini (Paris, Didier), a very interesting work; and M. d'Heylli 
reprinted the Veritables Memoires de Marie Mancini (Paris, Hilaire). 
The Memoires, published first in Italian, and the Veritables Memoires 
have a common basis, and probably a common origin. 

2 Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, Memoires, v. IV. p. 163. The adolescence 
of Louis XIV. has been the subject of deep research by R. P. Cherot, 
of the Company of Jesus, in a number of articles published in the 
Etudes. These learned labours have been collected in a book, written 
with charm and profound erudition, La premiere jeunesse de Louis XIV. 
(Desclee, de Brower et Cie.). It would be well to read also two other 
works by the same author: Trois educations princieres ate dix-septieme 
Steele, Le Grand Conde, etc. (Paris, Desclee 1896); Bourdaloue 
inconnu (Paris, R6taux, 1898). It would be ungrateful of me to forget 
an excellent article by this conscientious writer : Fouquet, Ami des 
Livres. I beg to offer R. P. Cherot my sincere gratitude and respect, 
together with my deepest sympathy in these trying times (1902). The 
Reverend Father died several months before this fourth edition went 
to press, at an age when he could still have rendered great services to 
literature and the Church. He was as zealous a priest as he was an 
erudite historian, and he did much to comfort the last days of our 
confrere, M. Duprez, Honorary Conservator of Manuscripts at the 
Bibliotheque Nationale, an unassuming and kindly scholar. 




From an engraving after a picture by W. Vaillant. 

LOUIS XIV. 



CHAPTER II 

1659 — 1661 

THE beginning of the journey was very gay. As 
has been said, they were to pass through Blois, 
and, in passing, see the young Princess of 
Orleans. All the talk was of the little " Ex-Queen," 
Marguerite. As they approached the town, Louis 
said to his tall cousin. Mile de Montpensier : " I 
thought I wouldn't change my coat, or have my 
hair dressed ; for, if I looked my best, it would be too 
distressing for your father, your step-mother, and your 
sister to know I had slipped through their fingers. 
So I made myself as ugly as I could, that they might 
be disgusted with me." It was in this mood of boyish 
fatuity that he arrived at the Castle of Chambord. 
Behold ! there were no princesses there at all. Either 
because the parents were angry, or because they were 
discreet, the girls had been sent to Blois. It was not 
until next day that Louis there saw them. They 
received him at the foot of the great staircase. Every- 
one knows the three exquisite statues of girls which 
decorate that wonderful entrance-hall — masterpieces 
then unappreciated. The formal taste of the time was 
almost hostile to these gems of the Renaissance. And, 
despite all that has been said by others, the King's eyes 
were equally incapable of appreciating that other beauty, 
less perfect perhaps than Goujon's creations, but alive, 

39 



40 Louise de La Valli^re 

and so seductive in her vitality ! — Louise de La Valliere, 
standing, modestly obscure, behind the ladies of Orleans. 
Had the timid maiden any curiosity, any furtive 
glances, for the Prince of whom she had heard so 
much ? A handsome Prince is so very handsome ! 

On the whole, this encounter left no pleasant 
memories behind it. Gaston's officers, who were very 
well content with themselves, were not considered a 
la mode. A meal was served in an old-fashioned sort 
of style. *' And the ladies were dressed like the dishes 
— all out of fashion." Anne of Austria, who was very 
fastidious, and the young King, whose thoughts were 
elsewhere, were in a hurry to be off; Gaston, on his side, 
weary and ill, earnestly desired their departure. The 
guests, as soon as they were in their carriages, began to 
criticise all the details of the reception ; and Monsieur's 
own daughter. Mile de Montpensier, sacrificing her 
father to her hatred for her step-mother, joined in the 
chorus, and was careful to preserve the memory of the 
mockeries in her book.^ 

Mazarin, whether he liked it or not, had been 
obliged to allow Louis and Marie to meet at Saint- 
Jean-d'Angely (April 13, 1659). Louis instantly 
succumbed once more to the domination of this deter- 
mined young lady-in-love. Fresh vows were ex- 
changed. Marie even proposed that they should sign 
an odious engagement. Both of them were to marry 
if they were forced to do so, but they were to promise 
one another " not to get on " with their respective 
spouses. It seems that Louis hesitated to sign this 
abominable document, and at the same moment Mazarin 
definitely fulminated. He sent the King a letter 

* Mile DE Montpensier, Memoires, v. III. p. 376. See the counter- 
part of these memoirs in La Muze historique of Loret, who had his 
information from one of Gaston's officers, called Sanguin, v. III. 
p. 86. 



Louise de La Valli^re 41 

(April 28, 1659) — a highly characteristic letter, long 
and diffuse, clearly expressing at last his inflexible 
opposition to projects which must henceforth be re- 
garded as out of the question. And, as he had done 
two months before at Paris, Louis first resisted and 
then — yielded. At bottom, his thraldom to this passion 
was more apparent than real. Once he was away from 
Marie Mancini's insistent, burning gaze, his mother 
regained her great influence over him — and so did the 
rest of the world, keenly watchful, as he was aware, of 
all his actions.^ Anne of Austria, indeed, found him 
more submissive than ever, and a still more unex- 
pected result was that the Cardinal soon had occasion 
to felicitate his niece upon her return to reason ! ^ 
Did this apparent resignation conceal an ulterior pur- 
pose ? The Italian girl's enigmatic character would lead 
one to suppose so ; but evidently her power of fascina- 
tion was exhausted. On September 21, Louis signed, 
at Bordeaux, the letter which the Marechal de Gram- 
mont was to take to the Infanta, confirming the request 
for her hand. " I beseech you very humbly to give 
your consent, and to consider the matter not solely as 
a step necessary for the welfare of our respective States, 
but, regarding me a little as a person keenly desirous 
of your friendship and esteem, to do me the favour of 
consulting your heart to some extent. You will find 
me ever ready to honour and respect you, and to 

1 Tallemant des R6aux, a far from prudish author, speaks of Louis 
XIV., towards 1658, in terms which prove his confidence in the good 
conduct of the youthful Prince. See Historiettes, v. V. p. 221. 

2 See letters to Mme de Venel and to Marie (September 23,^ 1659) I 
Letires de Cardinal Mazarin, v. II. pp. 61, 62 ; Amedee Renee, Les 
Nieces de Mazarin, p. 32. See letters to the same of December 9, 1659 : 
Lettres, v. II. p. 381. Marie begged her uncle not to marry her to the 
Constable Colonna, but to another Prince, probably the Prince of 
Lorraine, who had asked for one of the sisters, whichever they liked 
to give him. See, finally, a letter from Colbert to Mazarin, Jan. 2, 
1660, Bulletin de la Societe de I'Histoirede France, 1834. Part First, 
p. 88. 



42 Louise de La Valli^re 

show you by all my actions how solicitous I am that 
you shall never repent of the choice which it has pleased 
you to make." ^ 

And so the young King quickly altered from the 
despairing lover to the hopeful and ha.ppyjiance. That 
natural feeling which, at Lyons, had drawn him towards 
the Princess Marguerite, now worked more powerfully 
still at Saint-Jean-de-Luz. One might say that, having 
wanted his wife before he knew her, he was most 
anxious to please her when he did know her, and 
behaved like a Prince not only gallant, but devoted. 

The young Princess, who, for her greater glory than 
happiness, was going to link her fate with his, had 
been far from submitting to this alliance as a political 
necessity. On the contrary, she had always desired it. 
The daughter of a Frenchwoman who was also Queen 
of Spain, the niece of a Spanish woman who was also 
Queen of France, very proud of her illustrious origin and 
desirous not to derogate therefrom, she had grown up 
with the idea that the grandson of Henri IV. was the 
only person worthy to be her husband. When Madrid 
heard that Louis the God-given was going to marry 
the Princess of Savoy, the Infanta had felt her heart 
contract, then dilate, as her father exclaimed, " It 
can't be, and it won't be ! " While the diplomats were 
still insistently enjoining silence upon her, she managed 
delicately to intimate that her desires outran their 
deliberations ; and, once married, she joyfully crossed 
the frontier and presented herself to Louis with all 
the prestige of a great Princess, and all the trustful 
and gracious abandonment of a bride in love with her 
bridegroom.^ The night of the Royal wedding was 

^ CEuvres deLom's X/V.,v.V.i>.6. Turenne is said to have dictated 
this letter, which the editor, somewhat inexplicably as we think, 
considers pompous. 

2 " I had time to observe minutely the behaviour of the Royalties, 
and my impression was that regret for having left a father was 



Louise de La Valli^re 43 

a night of true love. They told her that the King 
was undressed. Instantly Marie-Therese " sat down 
on a couple of cushions beside her bed to get undressed 
herself — without going to the glass, just as she was ; 
and when she heard that the King was waiting : Presto^ 
presto^ quel rey mespera : (' Quick, quick ; the King 
is waiting for me '). One may safely assign some 
tenderness and passion as the motive for such ready 
obedience. They went to bed with the Queen's 
blessing upon them — their common mother." (June 
9, 1660.) The next day Louis "was in high good- 
humour . . .all was gaiety and mirth. He went to 
the Queen at once : 'twas the sweetest thing in the 
world altogether."^ Marie-Therese, too, seemed 
absolutely happy. Her sweet nature apparently en- 
thralled the King. When his young wife asked him 
to give her " this first and only promise," that he 
would never be away from her unless he was absolutely 
obliged, he willingly granted her request. Every one 
who saw the betrothal, the marriage, and the ensuing 
festivities, carried away an impression of perfect bliss.^ 



During the long negotiations which preceded the 
alliance, great things had been happening at the little 
Court of Blois. Disappointment does not last, at the 
light-hearted age of the young folk there. New dreams 
of marriages were soon shaping themselves — marriages 
with the Prince of England, the Prince of Savoy. 

forgotten in the delight of coming to a husband," From an unpublished 
biography and memoirs : Extraits des Manuscrits de M. de Vuo?'den, 
p. 129. Paris, 1870. 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, Memoires, v. IV. p. 217. 

^ Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, Memotres, v. III. p. 479. See a poem 
on the accomplishment of Their Majesties' marriage ; (Euvres de 
Benserade, v. I. p. 8, His verses are remarkably free. Their sense 
agrees perfectly with the reports of Madame de Motteville and Mile 
de Montpensier. 



44 Louise de La Valli^re 

On November 27 the young Prince Charles of 
Lorraine was received there. He was an amiable and 
graceful youth, only just entering his sixteenth year, 
but extremely intelligent/ In vain did his tutor 
endeavour to keep him away from his pretty cousins. 
Madame d'Orleans, delighted to have him with her 
daughters, yielded to his pleading, and left the young 
people to themselves — with the result that he fell in 
love, not with one of the Princesses, but with Mile 
de Rar6 ! On this, he was promptly packed off. 

Gaston was not to see any of his daughters married. 
Towards the end of 1659, he failed noticeably. His 
final ailment carried him off in a few days — aided 
by the doctors, as one of the Faculty admits.^ He 
died on February 2, 1660, and thereupon followed an 
incident but too common at the death of princes : the 
people of the house pillaged even the mortuary- 
chamber ! The brother of Louis XIIL, the uncle of 
Louis XIV., totally deserted, was buried in a borrowed 
sheet. Only two men stayed by his side. One was 
Pere de Mouchy, the other was Abbe de Ranc6, the 
dead Prince's Almoner. And it was then, while he 
kept vigil over the body which base servants had 
stripped almost naked, and pondered the nothingness 
of human splendour, that the future reformer of La 
Trappe felt himself die to himself, and become the 
man whom we shall find, later on, offering holy 
counsel to Louise de La Valliere, herself transformed 
into Sister Louise de la Misericorde.^ 

But how contradictory things are, here below ! 

* See his first portrait, engraved by Nanteuil : Serenissimus princeps 
Carolus a Lotharingia, Nanteuil ad vivum facieb at ^ 1660. 

* Guy-Patin, Lettres, v. II. p. 3, 1707 edition. 

' La Vie de dom Armand Jean le Bouthillier de Ranee, ... by the 
Abbe DE Marsollier, p. 61, Paris, 1703; Mile de Montpensier, 
V. III. p. 45. Very worldly motives have been assigned forde Ranch's 
conversion. They are merely libellists' inventions. 



Louise de La Valli^re 45 

Gaston's death, which inspired M. de Ranc6 with 
the ideas of conversion and seclusion, was the cause 
of Louise's ruin, for it sent her out into the world of 
worldlings. 

Gaston's widow, Marguerite of Lorraine, now 
Dowager-Madame, did not stay long at Blois. " In- 
stead of doing her ' quarantine ' in a dark room," like 
other widows of the time, she departed about the 
middle of February, leaving her daughters behind 
for a few days. She was in a hurry to get to Paris 
and instal herself at the Luxembourg Palace, which 
was then called the " Orleans." To uphold her claims 
upon this princely habitation, she was obliged to live, 
to some extent at any rate, in the grand style. M. de 
Saint-Remi, " who was so out-of-date," was never- 
theless retained as maitre d'hotel to the Dowager, and 
joined her at Paris. In this capacity, he and his family 
were given rooms in the Palace — thus acquired by that 
possession which is nine points of the law. Louise de 
La Valli^re and her step-sister therefore continued their 
companionship with the three Orleans Princesses. 
Their romantic notions, born of provincial idleness, 
grew and flourished, more marvellous than ever, in 
the exciting air of Paris ! 

But as the family was still in mourning, the early 
days of the sojourn were relatively quiet. The biggest 
event of this period was the departure for Saint-Jean- 
de-Luz of the two younger Princesses. Their elder 
was spared the mortification of appearing as a subject 
at a marriage where she had once dreamed of figuring 
as Queen.-^ One speculates on the thoughts, the 
talks, of Marguerite and her friend Louise at this 
time — above all, on the effect produced on the latter 
by the Royal Entry to Paris, which was a most 
magnificent affair (August 25, 1660). Every balcony, 

^ Mile DE MONTPENSIER, V, IV, p. 25 1, 



46 Louise de La Valli^re 

every window, was crowded. There were the Queens 
and the Princesses of Orleans, and there, no doubt, 
was Louise de La Valliere. A young married woman 
— Madame Scarron, nee Frangoise d'Aubigne — gazed 
with all her eyes at the pageant ; for, despite her 
obscurity, friends of high degree had got a good place 
for her. When she came back from the ceremony 
to the side of her own crippled husband, she wrote 
her impressions to a friend, and one of the first was : 
" I don't think any one could possibly be handsomer, 
and the Queen must go to bed at night rather pleased 
with the husband she has chosen." "^ 

Madame Scarron was quite right. Marie-Therese 
had chosen her husband ; and, young as she was, she 
was not in the least likely to change her mind. She 
was naturally upright, and a careful education had 
engraved on her heart the principles of an inviolable 
fidelity. She was asked one day if she had ever 
thought of any young man at the Spanish Court. 
'* How could I possibly ? " she replied. " There was 
no King there," 

But can we feel the same faith in a husband of 
twenty-two, who had not so much chosen a wife as 
accepted her ! Anne of Austria had felt somewhat 
reassured when, after the wedding-night, her son had 
thanked her for " having put Marie Mancini out of 
his head." Louis was sincere when he said that — 
but he was very young. Marie-Thdrese knew no 
French ; Louis could barely speak Spanish. The 
young Queen, who had been advised at Madrid to 
show great reserve, seemed to care for no society 
but that of her aunt, and the two ladies went piously 
about, visiting the convents and churches of Paris. 
At that time, Marie Mancini was living at the Louvre, 
"with all the rest of the Mazarin lot." For an 
^ Mme DE Maintenon, Correspondance generate^ v. I. p. 72. 



Louise de La Valli^re 47 

instant it was feared that she might be going to 
claim the execution of some rash boyish promise. 
There was gossip. "A recommendation from la 
Marie was worth more than one from the Queen." -^ 
A few months later, things had gone so far that the 
young wife felt the first pricks of jealousy, which 
never again left her. She wept, she complained, and 
her complaints became public talk. Fortunately, 
the Mazarin girl was in the end unmasked — showed 
herself to be entirely graceless and unprincipled.^ 

She set her cap at that Prince Charles of Lorraine 
whom we have already seen at Blois, disturbing the 
hearts of little Princesses. Marie was quite ready for 
a flirtation ; she used to meet him in secret — sometimes 
at the Tuileries, sometimes at church. . . Then, when 
she had compromised herself hopelessly and lost all 
prestige in the King's eyes, what should happen but that 
Prince Charles's own uncle should propose for her 
himself — only, an intercepted letter proves that the 
old Duke was merely making a fool of the ambitious 
young lady ! ^ 

The indignant Marie then accepted the suggestion 
made to her by Mazarin — that ever-ready match- 
maker ! — of marrying the Constable Colon na, though 
she had at first shown a great repugnance to the idea. 
The Italian, on his side, took her without even troubling 
to make her acquaintance. He was satisfied with her 
fortune of 100,000 ecus and the beautiful house in 
Rome which the Cardinal gave her. " The Constable, 
who," to quote Hortense Mancini, "had never believed 
that a Royal love-affair could be innocent, was so over- 
joyed to find in my sister a certain proof to the contrary, 
that he did not complain at all of not being the first 

^ Extraits des MSS. de Vuorden, p. 177. Paris, 1870. 
^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, V. IV. p. 218. 

3 Memoires de Beauvau, p. 185. See Mile de Montpensier, v. IV. 
p. 506. 



48 Louise de La Valli^re 

master of her heart." He was the second, but not 
the last.-^ This proud object of a Royal passion, this 
Maximiliane of the Dictionnaire des Precieuses^ this 
fantastic consort of a somewhat uncivilised husband, 
finished her life as a kind of comic-opera heroine, laughed 
at generally, and worse than laughed at — -forgotten. 

One would like to give Mazarin credit for the semi- 
exile of a niece whom he certainly did not love ; but, 
at the same time, the egotistical man showed himself 
in a very harsh light towards the young Queen. He 
fussed over her most trifling expenses, and arranged 
her household without consulting her in the least. Feel- 
ing that his death was inexorably approaching, forgetful 
of his glory, and thinking only of the imminent disper- 
sion of his great fortune, he now was trying to enlist 
his relations and friends on his side, by lavishing on 
them places, incomes, dignities. In this way he 
forced the Princess Palatine to relinquish her post 
as Superintendent of the Queen's Household, so that 
he might instal therein his niece Olympe, who was as 
antipathetic to the Queen-mother as she was odious 
to Marie-Therese. The Cardinal ended his life badly, 
with this maleficent arrangement — for Louis had 
already begun to go again to the Soissons habita- 
tion. He enjoyed, as most young men do, the flattery 
and adulation lavished on him there. But henceforth 
Olympe Mancini would need no more to await the 
Royal visits ; she was back at the Louvre, established 
there definitely— a malignant and destructive influence. 

1 We have two letters from Louis XIV. to the Constable: one of 
April 12, 1661, where he assures him " that the marriage has been 
very agreeable to him"; the other of August 6, 1661, vi'here he says: 
" I have read with great pleasure what you tell me of the feelings she 
(Marie) still has for me, and of your own share in them " (CEuvres de 
Louis XIV., V. V. pp. 12, 37). 

^ Le Dictionnaire des Precietises, v. I. p. 168 of the 1856 edition, 
by M. Livet. The author of the Dictionary, Saumaize, called himself, 
in 1 66 1, the Secretary of Mme la Conn^table Colonna {Ibid. p. i). 



Louise de La Valli^re 49 

Two days after this last rascality, Mazarin lay on his 
death-bed at the Castle of Vincennes. Three beds 
had been put up in a room close to his, where slept 
Anne of Austria, her son Louis XIV., and the King's 
nurse. Marie-Therese had remained at Paris. In the 
early morning of March 9, " the King called his nurse, 
and getting out of bed very very gently, he asked 
her, by an expressive glance only, if the Cardinal was 
dead. He did this for fear of awakening the Queen, 
or . troubhng her by the sight of death — always an 
awful and overwhelming spectacle. When he saw that 
death had come, he dressed himself and assembled 
the Ministers, Chancellor Le Tellier, Superintendent 
Foucquet, and M. de Brienne. He ordered them to 
arrange nothing in future without consulting him, and 
he ' did not desire,' he added, ' that favours should 
be granted by any one but himself from that time 
forward.' " His mother, who permitted herself to use 
the tone of authority that very day, was instantly 
shown that her son had become her King. 



This was the critical moment. Seeds of discord 
had already been sown at the Louvre that winter, 
and now the Luxembourg too was going through 
a stormy period. Mile de Montpensier was there 
again, and, just to annoy her step-mother, under- 
took to amuse and " wake up " her poor little 
bored sisters. They were young, and they loved 
dancing. Not so young, but much richer. Mademoiselle 
had her own private string-band. An impromptu 
dance was got up in a room as distant from Madame's 
as possible.^ Quite naturally, Louise de La Valliere 
was present at these little parties. Sometimes she 

1 Mademoiselle says that the dances did not begin till a year after 
Monsieur's death, which took place on Feb. 2, 1660. 



50 Louise de La Valliere 

even went with Marguerite of Orleans to the Louvre ; 
but this latter, who was a great novel-reader, quickly- 
wearied of such excursions, and they came back to 
the fun at Mademoiselle's. Blindman's-buff, hide- 
and-seek, were among the diversions. " No cards : 
they were not in fashion. It was a hundred times 
more fun without them. There were violins, but 
usually they were stopped, so that they might dance 
to their own singing." ^ But all sorts of passions 
were brewing under these innocent amusements — some 
tardy, others precocious. La Grande Mademoiselle, 
imperious, resolute, desirous to marry ,^ but either too 
lofty for one parti or not lofty enough for another, 
now had set her fancy on that young Charles of 
Lorraine whom so many people wanted. He was a 
rather slovenly ^ but good-looking boy, a little awkward, 
though very shapely, and his face was more than pleasing 
— it was positively fascinating. Whatever she chose 
to say later on, this damsel of thirty certainly admired 
the long-lashed eyes and sidelong, feline glances of 
the seductive young man. It was for him that in 
reality the balls and suppers were being given. But 
unfortunately. Mademoiselle's young sister Marguerite, 
"fair as the day," was there as well; and Mademoiselle 
looked like her grandmother.* Charles felt drawn to 

^ Memoires pour servir a Vhistoire de Louis XIV., by the Abb6 de 
Choisy, v. I. p. i6o (Utrecht, 1727) ; p. 582, Michaud edition. 

2 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. III. p. 501 : " Sometimes I wanted 
very much to get married ; other times I didn't care ; but I loved 
people to talk about it, always." 

^ Mile DE MONTPENSIER, V. III. p. 498. 

4 Choisy, Memoires, p. 671, Michaud Collection. According to 
Choisy, Mademoiselle saw that Charles was in love with her sister, 
and cut short all the fesdvities. This is a mistake. Mademoiselle 
was not very observant. Her real purpose is clear enough, despite 
the reticence of her expressions, when once we have the dates for 
this part of her book. She gave these pardes after March 2, 1661 ; 
on February 22, the Duke of Lorraine had made his proposal to 
her in his nephew's name, and she had said Yes. 



Louise de La Valli^re 51 

Marguerite of Orleans. But she was poor ; her elder 
was rich. It was to the rich sister that the Prince of 
Lorraine proposed — or rather, his uncle for him 
(February 22, 1661). 

Romantic Marguerite was deeply wounded ; but 
she quickly chose her part, and begged her mother 
to marry her at once to the Duke of Tuscany, before 
"she had experienced the delights of Court." The 
ambassador of the Medici lost no time ; he presented 
himself at once. Marguerite received him with shrieks 
of despair ! . . . The following incident will give some 
idea of the extraordinary life these girls led at the 
Luxembourg. Louise's friend was as changeable as 
she was impulsive. One evening she begged her elder 
sister to take her to the Grandes-Carmelites, " where," 
she said, " she would like to confess." It was arranged 
for the next day ; but in came a new novel, Marguerite 
spent the night reading it, and it is not surprising 
to learn that she fell asleep in the Convent-church ! ^ 
Nevertheless, she did make a retreat, and had the 
same cell, very likely, that Louise de La Valliere 
was to have one day. . . . Suddenly, the poor child 
was heard weeping wildly : " she would not have the 
Tuscan Prince ; the King was a tyrant if he tried 
to force her to." But when they threatened her with 
a lasting incarceration at the Convent of Charonne, 
she grew calmer, went back to the Palace, and started 
a fresh escapade. Every day, no matter what the 
weather, she went a-hunting far into the heart of 
the woods, followed by her cousin Charles, who let 
his uncle do the wooing of La Grande Mademoiselle 
for him. Either alone, or very inefficiently escorted, 
Marguerite would come back at nightfall, with torn hood 
and tattered garments. "People were astounded — "^ 

1 Mile DE MONTPENSIER, V. III. p. 507. 

* Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 5 ) Memoires de Beauvau, 
p. 189. 



52 Louise de La Valli^re 

particularly the Tuscan Ambassador. But he made 
his request all the same, and on April i8, 1661, 
Marguerite, whether she liked it or not, was married 
to the Italian Prince. 

It was an evil fate which thrust this deplorable 
example under Louise de La Valli^re's eyes ; and not 
only this, but another more pernicious still. The 
Lorraine men were, in the contemporary phrase, " of 
very amorous disposition." Prince Charles's uncle, a 
Duke without a Duchy, stayed on at Paris trying 
to make the most of his slender resources, and, above 
all, to enjoy himself. His sort of love-affair plainly 
indicated his senility. A young woman called Marianne 
Pajot, the daughter of Mademoiselle's apothecary and 
the niece of one of Madame's lady's-maids, was then 
living with her aunt at the Luxembourg. The old 
Duke fell in love with her, invited himself to the 
aunt's house, took the niece out for airings, and 
his doddering passion enlisted an astonishing ally. 
Marguerite of Orleans (not yet married), learning 
that the Duke of Lorraine wanted to marry Charles 
to her elder sister, went and flung herself at his 
feet, imploring him to abandon the project, to give 
Charles to her. " My sister is proud and arrogant. 
She will never let you marry Marianne ; but / — I 
will live with you as the meanest of my women- 
servants might have done, if you had allowed your 
nephew to marry her ; / will love, / will look up 
to Marianne ! " ^ 

M. de Lorraine answered merely, " You are a little 
fool ! " — and continued to provide the Luxembourg 
with gossip about his own "fooleries " with the Pajot girl. 

Louise de La Valli^re was then sixteen and a half. 

1 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. III. p. 5 1 9. See D'Haussonville, 
Histoire de la reunion de la Lorraine a France, III. 164; 1857 
edition. 



Louise de La Valli^re 53 

We are at the end of March, 1661. It is little more 
than a year since her arrival in Paris. The reader 
will have guessed at her employments, during this 
transition-period, from the little details which we 
have supplied : eager explorings of the great city, 
wonder at the glories of the Royal Wedding Procession, 
glimpses of the inner life of the Louvre, little parties ^ 
at Mademoiselle's, where she met the gentlemen of 
the Court. . . If Marguerite of Orleans read new 
novels all night, her companion doubtless got hold 
of them in the daytime. It was the hour of awakening 
curiosity — that perilous hour, so often closely followed 
by the temptation, and then by the trial of strength, 

Mazarin, as we have seen, died on March 9, 
and was forgotten before he was cold in the 
grave. People felt that they could breathe more 
freely. . . The month of April, 1661, was fruitful 
in events. Its opening day saw the marriage of 
Monsieur, the King's brother, with the Princess 
Henrietta, daughter of Charles I. of England. Philippe 
received as apanage part of the late Gaston's estate. 
Gaston's widow was now only the Dowager-Madame. 
Gradually all her former adherents were slipping 
away from her. There was talk of the Saint-Remis 
and La Vallieres returning to Touraine or to the 
Blois country. But no ! that Goddess of Chance 
who had brought Louise from the heart of the 
provinces to the very Louvre itself, was now to 
thrust her still deeper into the adventurous life of the 
Court. 

A famous precieuse of the time, Madame de 

^ Mademoiselle de Montpensier tells much that has hitherto been little 
used about this transition-period of Louise's life. The small dances 
took place a year after Gaston's death, say, in February. About 
March i8th (Saint Joseph's Eve) Mademoiselle d'Orleans was 
promised in marriage to the Duke of Savoy. She says that La 
Valliere was then fifteen (v. IIL p. 496). We know that she had 
been sixteen on August 6, 1660. 



54 Louise de La Valli^re 

Choisy, wife of the Ex-Chancellor of Gaston of 
Orleans, lived in one of the much-coveted sets of 
apartments at the Luxembourg. Witty rather than 
cultured, and fond of society, she was approaching 
the age when galanterie gives way to the excitement 
of intrigue. As was the fashion of the time, this 
lady wrote her own pen-portrait, and, like most 
painters, flattered herself a little. " Great assemblies 
and brilliant society do not make me nervous," she 
affirmed ; '* on the contrary, I seem born for that 
kind of thing. The greatest pleasure I know is to do 
good turns for other people : nothing makes me so 
happy. Naturally, with these characteristics, I do not 
lead a notably tranquil life ! " -^ 

\xi simple language, this means that our Norman 
lady (for she came from Caen) had a mania for 
interfering in other people's affairs. Deeply versed 
in Court gossip, she kept up correspondences with 
the Queens of Poland and Sweden, and with Madame 
Royale of Savoy, " She had no idea of speUing ; 
but, when one knew her peculiar style well enough 
to savour it, one found it full of admirable phrases, 
and very vivacious indeed." ^ She was notably daring, 
and one day she said to Louis XIV. : " Sire, if you 
want to become an interesting man, you must often 
come and talk with me." He took her advice, gave 
her audiences regularly twice a week, and paid for 
them, later on, with a pension. In short, if we are 
to believe him — and many others — Madame de Choisy 
was a very strong-minded and superior person indeed. 

1 La Galerie des Portraits de Mademoiselle^ E. de Barthelemy's 
edition, p. 265. We have no hesitation in attributing to Mme de 
Choisy the "portrait of a lady of position in the town of Caen, done 
by herself." Mme de Choisy, nee Hurault de I'Hopital, had married 
a Councillor of the Parliament. 

2 Tallemant des Reaux, Historiettes, v. VI. p. 27, Segrais, who 
was a countryman of the lady's, says in his Memoires that "she 
talked and wrote divinely" {Memoires-Anecdotes, p. 27, 1755 edition). 



Louise de La Valli^re 55 

Now it happened that this enterprising lady had taken 
particular notice of " little " La Valliere, who sometimes 
played with her son in the Luxembourg gardens ; and, 
as she wished to establish relations with the new 
Madame — now the rising star — and as that lady's 
household was still in process of formation, she presented 
her fair 'protegee^ and succeeded in getting her appointed 
maid-of-honour. 



A maid-of-honour ! What visions the words 
evoke — what dreams of splendour ! To be a gem 
in that crown of innocence or virtue which etiquette 
assigns to Queens and Princesses ; to stand, like the 
modest forget-me-not, one of the flowering circle 
around the Queen-Rose ! What fate more enviable than 
to serve the Queen, to serve Madame, to stand by 
the source of all grace, the object of all homage ! . . . 
And yet — the rose had its thorns. Madame was 
not perfect ; one suffered from little tempers. If 
she were wakeful, the maid-of-honour was instantly 
summoned, and had to read the latest romance aloud 
until slumber was kind. Another time there was 
great excitement about some ball : every one was 
ready, all was arranged, when Madame has a tiiF 
with Monsieur, and stays at home, and all the ladies, 
of course, have to stay at home, too ! . . . Moreover, 
one was criticised, women were jealous, men too 
assiduous. The Court-gallants often behaved very 
insolently to these poor girls. Anne of Austria made 
strenuous efforts to keep her giddy little troop in 
order ; Marie-Ther^se had entrusted the chaperonage 
of hers to a lady of high repute, the Marechale de 
Navailles. But how was Madame going to rule her 
household — the new Madame, First Lady in Francej 
aged sixteen ? Heaven alone could tell ! 



56 Louise de La Valli^re 

All these considerations, however, were as nothing to 
another and more practical one, which for the Saint- 
Remis, poor as church-mice, assumed a more immediate 
importance. 

The post of maid-of-honour carried with it some 
real advantages. The tiny salary of a hundred livres 
(about five or six hundred francs nowadays) was 
scarcely enough to dress on ; but it was safe, and 
there was a better chance for a portionless girl of 
picking up a husband at Court than anywhere else. 
A Princess, too, would frequently do a little kindly 
match-making, helping matters on with small presents, 
small favours, ^ and Louise's parents caught all the more 
eagerly at the opportunity because they now had 
another daughter, which, with the two born of their 
preceding marriages, left them with three girls to 
establish. 

On March 28, 1661, Jean-Francois de La Baume 
Le Blanc, Knight, Lord of La Valliere, and damoiselle 
Louise-Fran^oise, brother and sister, and of full age, 
declared to Juge Michel Guillois that '* they were 
in need of some moneys to fit themselves out — that 
is to say, for the gentleman, to serve the King, and 
for the lady, to go as maid-of-honour to the future 
Madame." 

As far as Louise was concerned, it was absolutely 
true. But her brother's declaration that he was 
going to serve His Majesty was distinctly over- 

1 This passage was written before I came across the httle book 
entitled L'Amante Convertie, ou I'lllustre Penitente, an anonymous 
account of the conversion of La Valliere. On page 13 (1684 edition) 
we read: "Those parents to whom, in His inscrutable providence, God 
has given noble birth and an ignoble fortune, are usually convinced 
that the only way to improve their daughters' position is to send them 
to Court. It is true that these posts are dazzling, and desirable in 
that they seem to hold out hopes of kindly intervention which is 
unprocurable elsewhere. But assuredly they expose their occupants 
to great dangers." 



Louise de La Valli^re 57 

emphasised. He served His Majesty merely as a 
soldier serves his captain. 

But we must not be too severe on a young man's 
vanity. . . The brother and sister confessed that no 
one would lend them a penny " because of their 
youth, without first consulting their parents and 
friends." This was what had decided them to summon 
before Guillois Messire Francois de Beauvau, Knight, 
Marquis of Beauvau, and Messire Henry de Boivin, Lord 
of Vauroy, their cousins-german. 

The committee consented " to the borrowing by dame 
Fran^oise Le Provost of the necessary sum of money 
for the use and affairs of the said gentleman and 
lady, her children, either by a charge on her income, 
a bond, or otherwise, on the security of the Sieur 
de Courtarvel." Michel Guillois referred to the 
Court of Justice, which confirmed the decision. 

We have none of the documents which ensued 
from this arrangement ; but plainly it was by borrowing 
that Jean-Francois and his sister Louise began their 
careers — one leading to the barracks of the Dauphin's 
Light Horse, the other to the brilliant Court of the 
future Madame. 

The girl entered upon hers light-heartedly. Her 
family had no hold upon her. How delightful, indeed, 
to escape from the severe looks of the Dowager- 
Madame and the patronising kindness of La Grande 
Mademoiselle ; to go to the Tuileries, not as the 
obscure servitor of a Princess destined to be exiled 
from France, but as maid-of-honour to Madame, 
the King's own sister-in-law ! To go to Court — 
what a vision for girlish eyes, which see everything 
in rose-colour ! 

From that Luxembourg Palace where Chance had 
placed her, the young creature could, as it were, 
behold the two destinies which awaited her. On one 



58 Louise de La Valli^re 

side she saw above the house-tops — then few and 
lowly — Paris, the city of delights, the Louvre, the 
Tuileries. On the other — and the contrast was re- 
markable — all she could see were ecclesiastical buildings 
and austere convents. Close to the Palace Garden, 
so close that they looked like one, was the courtyard 
of the Carthusian monks ; farther, lay Val-de-Grace ; 
between the two stood a Convent of rigidly secluded 
nuns, leading lives so hard and joyless that gay 
worldlings shuddered at the very thought of them — 
the nuns of the Order of the Grandes-Carmelites. 



Louise de La Valliere began her service at the 
Tuileries in the midst of the marriage-festivities — 
that month when everything is honeyed, even for 
princes. All the notabilities of the Court were there. 
Monsieur — as yet unrevealed — seemed amiable, witty, 
gentle, with a gracious word for all. Of middle 
height, but well-made, he was " trh joli " — agreeable 
enough, at any rate, to charm a young Princess for 
a month. This Princess, the daughter of Charles L 
of England, had spent her early life first in a kind 
of captivity, then in a kind of exile. Warm-hearted 
Anne of Austria had taken her under her protection ; 
but a life which needs that sort of protection is 
always a little deplorable. Then, quite unexpectedly, 
even suddenly, dazzling good-fortune had succeeded 
the dark hours. The Restoration of Charles IL was 
the beginning, and after that, Henrietta's sky seemed 
cloudless. 

Louise de La Valliere, naturally present at all the 
festivities, and expected to adorn them, succeeded 
notably, and was elated with her innocent triumphs. 
She was considered " extremely pretty, gentle, natural : " 
a veritable little floweret, half-hidden, but betrayed 



Louise de La Valli^re 59 

by its own sweetness, and somewhat frightened by 
the dazzling blaze of publicity. Yet this humble 
violet was to be transported to the full splendour 
of the Royal Court itself, there to bloom beneath 
the gaze of him who was soon to be known as the 
'* Roi Soleil." 



CHAPTER III 

APRIL, 1661 NOVEMBER, 1661 

BY the time Madame Henriette had finally put her 
house in order — or rather, had it put in order 
for her — it was almost the end of March. On 
April 19, she left Paris and rejoined the Court at Fon- 
tainebleau. Louise de La Valliere was plunged, without 
any transition-period, into a new life. She came into it 
quite alone. Her mother and her step-father, Saint- 
Remi — simple folk with still two daughters and a son 
to take care of — remained at the Luxembourg. Louise 
was to have for her only intimate friend another maid- 
of-honour, Anne Constance de Montalais, an intriguing 
and dangerous adviser. The child of sixteen was thus 
thrust into dangers of every kind, having, as sole 
guardian, a mistress of the same age as herself, quite as 
inexperienced but far more reckless, and greedily 
desirous of worldly success. 

While Louis was still able only to take an interest 
in grown-up girls — that is to say, in the beautiful and 
daring ones — he had shown much antipathy to the 
English Princess. Readers will recall the little scene 
which took place at a ball in the winter of 1655. The 
King was afraid that they would wish him to marry his 
cousin. Once married, his hostility showed itself again 
in remarks which his politeness of later years would 
have condemned — in asking his brother, for example, 

60 



Louise de La Valli^re 6i 

why he was in such a hurry to marry " the Bones of 
Holy Innocents." Imagine, then, his surprise when 
he saw Henrietta again in the glorious summer of 
1661 : the young girl, grown to womanhood, com- 
pletely transformed, completely transfigured ! A beauty 
of sixteen, full of all the grace of youth, with a brilliant, 
delicate, subtle wit, had blossomed like a flower, in one 
day. Madame felt herself on good terms with the 
whole world, and willingly gave back love for love. 
Her black eyes sparkled, "full of a magnetic fire which 
no man could resist " ; those eyes which, in the words 
of a contemporary, " seemed filled with the desire to 
please, and which each man believed shone for him 
only. The King realised, in this closer inspection of 
her, how utterly blind he had been not to think her 
the most beautiful person in the world. He became 
strongly attached to her, and showed her every manner 
of kindness." 

For her part, Madame remembered, with some con- 
siderable vexation, that the King had despised her 
when she might have married him ; and it was with a 
spice of malice that she saw how very different were 
the feelings which he seemed to have for her now. 
She did not take long to conquer the disdainful 
monarch. Less than a fortnight after her arrival at 
Fontainebleau, " she was arranging all the entertain- 
ments. They were got up for her, and the King cared 
only for those which she enjoyed." 

" It was the middle of summer ; Madame went out 
bathing every day. She started in a carriage, on ac- 
count of the heat, and returned on horseback, followed 
by all the ladies, elegantly dressed, with wonderful 
feathers on their heads, and accompanied by the King and 
all the gallants of the Court. After supper they got 
into little carriages and drove, to the sound of violins, 
along the grassy banks of the canal. These woodland 



62 Louise de La Valli^rc 

drives lasted until two or three o'clock in the morning, 
and undoubtedly had an air of great impropriety." 
The Gazette de France had scarcely room enough to 
chronicle the long series of festivities. On May 8 
the King gave a water-fete for Madame, " in galiots, 
with flourishes of trumpets." After the excursion, a 
wonderful collation. The same day la Grande Made- 
moiselle arrived, and also the new Princess of Tuscany, 
Marguerite d'Orl^ans, that friend of Louise de La 
Valliere, who, in her salad-days, had begged that she 
might be married before she could learn the delights 
of Court-life. She saw it then in full splendour. 
Indeed, on the evening of her arrival, there was a 
boating-party on the canal, as well as a performance 
at the Comedie-Fran^aise. On the next day the King, 
Monsieur, and Madame went to visit Mademoiselle ; 
in the evening there was a ball. There Louise de La 
Valliere met her young friend again, and found her, 
who used to be so gay, deeply dejected at having 
rushed into the arms of an unknown husband, thereby 
losing for ever her cousin, Charles of Lorraine ! 
Thoroughly discontented, the Princess had no social 
charm, so she was forgotten the moment she was 
gone. She left next day. In the morning there was 
a hunting-party, in the evening boating on the canal, 
with the most delicious concert taking place all the 
time. This was such a success that two days after- 
wards Baptiste LuUi, " a Florentine gentleman," was 
honoured with the title of " Superintendent and 
Composer of Music to the King " ; while Lambert, 
another musical celebrity, was appointed " Master of 
the same Music." Then the trumpets were replaced 
by thirty-six violins, of all instruments the most 
amorous. 

On the 22 nd, there was an excursion to the 
Hermitage, the most beautiful part of the forest, 




Ain.1 the cn^rauu^' Lj L, 



LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE. 



Louise de La Valliere 63 

where " a magnificent collation was served for the 
Queens, Madame, and the other Princesses and maids- 
of-honour of the Royal Household." This piece of 
Gazette news is chronologically valuable. The maids- 
of-honour were beginning to attract attention. Several 
of them were very pretty. There is an engraving 
from a portrait of Louise de La Valliere in a costume 
of about this date. She is beautifully dressed, with 
waving feathers in her hair. The face is smiling, 
brilliant, happy. Youth delights in pleasure, and 
pleasure was the breath of life at that time. On the 
25th, Monsieur gave a ball ; on the 27th, a hunting- 
party, where all the ladies were in very "light" 
carriages. "Light," in all its ambiguous significance, 
was then the fashionable word ! Hitherto one had 
thought of the Court of the great King as a scene 
of pompous and magnificent etiquette ; but, on the 
contrary, it seems that nothing was thought worth 
while there unless it was somewhat indecorous. 

The month of June, except for some storms, was 
even more magnificent than the month of May. On 
May 30th, Monsieur and Madame had to go to 
Colombes, where the Queen of England was, but they 
returned on June 2. Louis was in such a hurry to 
see Madame again that he went as far as the 
Hermitage to meet her. The next day he opened 
the ball with his sister-in-law. On the 1 1 th, an 
excursion, with all the ladies on horseback ; in the 
evening a ball, given by Monsieur. On the 14th, an 
open-air ball, given by the Duke of Beaufort. On 
the 1 8 th an entertainment organised by the Due de 
Saint-Aignan. On the 25th, one given by the Due 
d'Enghien, and on the evening of the same day, a 
torchhght procession ! 

When they did not go out, they rehearsed a ballet 
by Benserade. The young people were inspired to 



64 Louise de La Valli^re 

give another ballet, in which the dances were on 
horseback, to the light of torches. In that also the 
King and Madame played the principal parts. So, 
by the end of a month, there was no longer any 
question of Louis' attachment to his sister-in-law, 
" and it seemed to every one that there existed between 
them the kind of feeling that leads up to a great 
passion." ^ 

Something too much of this merry-making, thought 
the Queen-mother ! And the young Queen was 
beginning to complain of all these amusements, which 
took the King away from her. She would have liked 
to follow him everywhere, but that, of course, 
she could not do. Anne of Austria, in spite of her 
own ideas, gently reprimanded her daughter-in-law 
for this dawnmg jealousy. In reality, more uneasy 
herself than Marie-Th6r^se, because she knew more 
of her son and of the world, she tried to get the 
Court back to Paris, under pretence of spending 
the time of Jubilee piously there. Needless to say, 
her advice was disregarded. Then she intimated 
to Madame that so many dances and midnight ex- 
cursions were injurious to her health. After this prudent 
advice, she went on to more direct remonstrances, 
and was received with as little attention as before. 
Absorbed in the delight of having brought the King 
to her feet, the Princess did not bother herself much 
about propriety. She simply indulged in everything 
from which she could derive any amusement, so long 

^ Histoire de Madame Henriette, A letter found when they seized 
Foucquet's casket confirms this story of Mme de La Fayette's. See 
Cheruel, Memoires sur Foucquet^ v. II. p. 112. See also a pamphlet 
of the time, // Mercurio Postiglione di questo e I'altro mondo, in Villa- 
Franca, appresso Claudio del Monte, 1667, p. 69. The Postiglione 
was translated into a kind of French, at Liege (Claude Guibert, s.d.). 
It seems to have appeared before the death of the Queen-mother, 
towards the end of 1665. A picture (reproduced here) belongs to 
this period. 



Louise de La Valli^re 65 

as it did not appear to her to be absolutely criminal, 
or entirely against her duty. 

On June 27, the Queen-mother, " in order to put 
some stop to these excursions," took Madame to 
Villeroy, then to Dampierre, the residence of the 
Duchesse de Chevreuse.-^ The King accompanied his 
sister-in-law for fourteen miles of the way, and on 
her return showed the same enthusiasm. Then Anne 
of Austria began to speak more plainly. Monsieur 
also interfered, and Henrietta's mother was sent for. 
They all spoke " so strongly to the King and to 
Madame, that at last their eyes were opened," and 
they decided to put an end to these scandalous rumours 
"at any cost." They arranged between themselves 
that the King should make love to somebody be- 
longing to the Court, " and, looking around at all 
the ladies and young girls who seemed most suitable 
for the purpose," they selected Mile de Pons and 
Mile de Chimerault, two of the Queen's maids — 
bold coquettes both ! — and finally, Louise de La 
VaUiere. It was towards the end of the first week 
of July that this plot was woven. 



In such a way was the innocent girl given up to be 
the sport of the Court — and given up by that Princess, 
a married woman, who was the guardian of her honour, 
yet who now used her as the merest tool ! What can 
be said, except that Henrietta was the same age as her 
young attendant — that hard, crude age, which knows 
no more of pity than of discretion ? 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, V. IV. p. 278. Gazette de France, 
June 27 and 30, 1661. On July 4, the woman Laloy informed 
Foucquet of the arrival of the Queen of England, and the object of 
her visit. On the 7th, she added that it was "to speak to Madame 
about the King, and it is the Queen-mother who arranged it all " 
(Cheruel, Memoires sur Foucquet, v. II. p. 183). 



66 Louise de La Valli^re 

As soon as it was conceived, this plan was carried 
out. First of all, Mile de Pons — of doubtful virtue ! — 
escaped, in spite of herself, from the mock intrigue. 
Under pretence that her relative, the Marechal d'Albret, 
was ill, they hurried her off to Paris. The King, 
who already knew so much, discovered the fresh trick. 
He was very angry, and quickly intimated that he 
did not intend to have his wishes opposed in future.-^ 

Mile de Chimerault, cleverer and more expert in 
the Gentle Art of Coquetry, welcomed the King's 
attack, and replied to it ; but, as this siege was only 
a ruse, it was languidly conducted. 

There remained Louise de La Valliere. She had 
scarcely reached the age of seventeen, was tall, with a 
slim figure, rather thin, of that lissom slenderness, 
" like a young tree's " which belongs to extreme 
youth. Her detractors, for she soon had many, 
thought her insignificant, and said she did not carry 
herself well ; but a woman, usually very severe, and 
who did not like her. Mademoiselle de Montpensier, 
confessed that " though she was a little lame, she 
danced well." " She limped slightly," says another 
woman-writer, " but it was not unbecoming to her." ^ 
In riding-dres'=i, " she looked intensely graceful." A 
charming head crowned this healthy young form. Her 
only bad point was her teeth, which were not beautiful ; 
but her complexion was very fair ; ^ her blue eyes ^ 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, Me'moires, v. IV. p. 279. It will be found, in 
Mme de Motteville's Me'moz'res, that the forced departure of Mile de 
Pons took place after June 27, after the arrival of the Queen of England 
at Fontainebleau, and before July 16, the date of the dismissal of the 
Comte de Guiche. See Idtd. p. 281. See also the Memoires de 
Madame de Caylus, p. 130, Rounie edition. 

^ Correspondance de la Princesse Palatine. Of course the Princess 
Palatine only saw La Valliere in later years. 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, I.e. ; Histoire amoureuse des Gaules. The 
latter volume says " marked with small-pox." 

* The author of the Histoire amoureuse gives her brown eyes ; but 
he must have been colour-blind, for Mile de Montpensier, the Princess 
Palatine, and the Abbe Choisy all give her blue. 




From an engraving' after a miniature by Petitot. 
LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE. 



Louise de La Valli^re 6y 

had an indescribable charm — '^ they were soft and full 
of expression." Hair of a silvery fairness framed 
her beautiful face. The sound of her voice, extra- 
ordinarily sweet, lingered in one's ears, and those 
who heard it never forgot it. A clever word-painter 
completes this portrait by a touch which entirely ex- 
presses her : "She was not," he said, "one of those 
perfect beauties whom one often admires without loving. 
She was intensely lovable, and that line of La Fontaine : 

'Et la grace, plus belle encor que la beaute,' 

might have been written for her." 

Meanwhile Madame Henriette, quite confident in 
her own all-conquering attractions, tasting in advance 
the delights of an assured success, and living in a 
state of continual excitement, had not noticed the 
delicate charm and persuasive beauty of her maid-of- 
honour. Louis was to be no less surprised than his 
sister-in-law. The Mancini girls had shown him 
passion — but aggressive, authoritative, tyrannical passion. 
Henrietta, though more graciously, affected the same 
imperious airs. What a contrast, then, was Louise in 
her sweetness, sincerity, and innocence ! 

Scarcely two months had gone by since her arrival 
at Court, but they were two months in which the days 
were counted only by the number of gaieties in each. 
In Paris, life in the different palaces easily allowed 
a few hours for rest and reflection. But at Fontaine- 
bleau, they lived almost from morning till night in 
a state of whirl. And more disturbing still 
to a young imagination was the fact that every 
excursion led up to a new outburst of love-making ! 
The King was Madame's cavalier, while the maids- 
of-honour had for their admirers all the finest flower 
of the Court. This " little " La Valli^re, whom 
formerly they had regarded as scarcely having a claim 



68 Louise de La Valli^re 

to the title of demoiselle, was now receiving the homage 
of the most illustrious nobles. " Every one thought 
her lovely. Several young men made love to her " ; 
and, amongst others, the Comte de Guiche. In short, 
Louise had been living for three months in a romantic 
atmosphere, eminently calculated to inspire wonderful 
dreams — dreams which were soon, however, to be 
entirely surpassed by the reality. 

We need not go back so far as the King's visit to 
Blois, Louise had often seen him since her return 
to Paris, especially when she accompanied Marguerite 
of Orleans to the Louvre. Now she saw him every 
day — polished, eager, desirous of making a good im- 
pression, though speaking very little, and never quite 
losing the royal air. He was a great dandy, yet he 
looked like a hero. His slightly disdainful lips only 
gave more value to his words, and his glance was pierc- 
ing.-^ One might easily have taken him for one of the 
Kings of Romance, for one of those! Princes in the 
Astraa, who married shepherdesses. . . Now, Louise 
de La Valliere had read deeply of Romance. 

Louis, following out his arrangement with Madame, 
began acting his part towards the girl ; but the 
actor disappeared when the King experienced that 
sensation, hitherto unknown (for, having married too 
young, he did not sufficiently appreciate the deep 
affection of his wife), of being loved " for himself." 

Of all that has been narrated of confidences among 
the Maids, of shy confessions before the statue of 
Diana, and the overhearing of them by the surprised 
and delighted Prince, we have no account except from 
very suspect chroniclers.^ That Louise loved him 

^ See a portrait, both drawn and engraved by Nanteuil in i66l. The 
features are not too much accentuated in it. See also several drawings 
by Le Brun which are in the Louvre. 

2 We do not possess the original editions of these pamphlets. We 
can indicate their value, however, by saying that they make Versailles 



Louise de La Valli^re 69 

quite spontaneously, and gave him a heart as frank as it 
was true, we cannot doubt. Assuredly such an innocent 
child did not offer her love unsought. Perhaps she 
might even have kept her secret for ever if the King's 
own declaration had not brought forth her avowal. 

Real feeling soon carried him away from all make- 
believe. To follow out correctly the plan arranged 
between himself and Madame, the King ought to have 
made a display of his success ; but, feeling himself 
charmed, the charmer began to disseriible. The deeper 
the affair went, the more reserved he became. He 
was not seen with the girl at the house of her 
mistress, nor during the morning-excursions, but 
in the evenings " he would get out of Madame's 
carriage and go to that of La Valliere, of which the 
door was shut ; and, as it was night, and dark, he could 
speak to her with much less reserve." Had they then 
no meetings in the day-time ? That would be difficult 
to believe. We have accounts of more than one, 
the work perhaps of inventive minds, but they 
indicate how the popular imagination figured to itself 
these interviews between a Prince and a " Shepherdess." 
The Prince was always polished, insinuating, like 
one of Madame de Scudery's heroes. Louise is re- 
presented as more natural, often enough with an air 
of sorrowful melancholy : " ' Alas ! ' said the King, ' I 
speak as a happy man — a thing that perhaps in all 
my life I shall never be ! ' 'I do not know what you 
may be,' replied La Valliere, ' but I know well that if 
this trouble in my heart continues, I can scarcely know 
happiness.' " 

Then rain would fall suddenly; . . The King 
sheltered the girlish head with his own hat, and brought 

the scene of the seduction. The authentic account, to which we pin our 
faith, is Mme de La Fayette's story, confirmed by Mile de Montpensier's 
Memoires^ v. III. p. 527, See also L'lllustre Penitenie, p. 22, 



7o Louise de La Valli^re 

her back to the Palace, braving the jealous eyes of 
the Court. " The unrest of love appeared only upon 
his face ; on that of La Valli^re one saw a deep 
sorrow." 

In reading accounts, even contemporary ones, of 
this Royal romance, it would seem that it lasted for 
several months ; yet history gives it scarcely two short 
weeks. It was the day after the representation of the 
ballet called L' Impatience ; these verses had been sung : 

" Sommes-nous pas trop heureux 
Belle Iris, que vous en semble ? 
Nous void tous deux ensemble, 
Et nous nous parlons tous deux ; 
La nuit de ses sombres voiles 
Couvre nos d6sirs ardens 
Et I'amour et les 6toiles 
Sont nos secrets confidens. 

" Mon coeur est sous votre loi 
Et n'en peut aimer une autre ; 
Laissez-moi voir dans le vostre 
Ce qui s'y passe pour moi. 
La nuit est calme et profonde, 
Nul ne vient mal k propos, 
Le repos de tout le moude 
Assure nostre repos." ' 

And Benserade's advice was being put into practice. 

The King occupied, at Fontainebleau, the State 
apartments situated on the left side of the Court, in 
the Oval. On the same side, and in the Pavilion 
called '* the Prince's," at the entrance to the same 
courtyard, were the apartments belonging to Monsieur, 
the King's brother, to Madame Henriette, and to her 
maids-of-honour. This pavilion, built by Henri IV., 
showed a special character as regards its interior 
decoration. While the Pagan art of the Renaissance 
reigned supreme throughout the rest of the castle, there 

^ CEuvres de Bcnsenide v. II. p. 238, Paris edition. Although the 
ballet L Impatience is printed after that of the Saisons, it ought to 
be placed first, having been represented in 165 1. See La Muze 
histori^ue, v. III. p. 322. 



Louise de La Valli^re 71 

was here a singular mixture of subjects. Beside 
Jupiter abducting Europa or talking with Calisto, 
one saw Eve giving the apple to Adam, and, further 
on, the married pair driven out of the Earthly Paradise.^ 
It was not the Biblical pictures which made most 
impression upon the young people of 1661. 



It is the absolute rule in poetry, when it treats of 
passionate heroes and sincere, true-hearted women, 
to lead away the lovers, at the moment of decision, 
into mysterious groves, on one of those days when 
the infuriated elements seem resolved upon their ruin. 

More than one biographer of Louise de La Valliere 
has attempted to shelter her, at the moment of trial, 
under such a Virgilian setting. It is a foolish 
and dangerous artifice. Nothing more truly deserves 
pardon than the candid confession of a fault. Always 
— and it is its earliest bitterness — illicit love is forced 
to assume a vulgar form, and Louis XIV. had to 
submit to this universal law. 

He had then a favourite, the Comte de Saint-Aignan 
— a curious person, who pretended to be a young man, 
but was nearly forty, the father of three big boys, 
and three daughters who were abbesses. A witty 
fellow, a poet on occasion,^ and gallant always, he 
had won the favour of the young King by a com- 
plaisance unworthy of his position, and above all 
of his age. It is worth noting that Saint-Aignan 
had made part of the military household of Gaston 
of Orleans, so all the little world of Blois was q ite 

^ GuiLBKRT, Descriptions de Fontainebleau, v. II. p. ']']. 

^ Saint-Aignan had a piec« of verse in honour of the Virgin, crowned 
at the Palinode of Caen in 1667. He was a member of the F'rench 
Academy of 1663. Histoire de I' Academie franfaise, hy D'Olivet, 
p. 161, Amsterdam edition, 1730. See Memoires de Rene Rapin, 
V. III. p. 382. 



72 Louise de La Valliere 

familiar to him. He had since been made Governor 
of Touraine. He was, to put it prettily, the Medium 
of Fate. At that time, in his office of First Gentleman 
of the Chamber, he occupied one of those small 
rooms in the Palace which contrast so strangely with 
the magnificence of the State Apartments. . . Saint- 
Aignan lent his room} 



We have come to a threshold which we may not 
cross ; but, glancing over that irretrievable past and 
that vanished innocence, we are obliged to state that 
resistance was short, and victory speedy. 

Louise, arriving at Fontainebleau in May, became, 
before the end of July, the mistress of the King. 
Once more we come to the day after the ballet of 
U Impatience : 

" Courons ou tendent nos d^sirs ; 
II n'est pas toujours temps de gouter les plaisirs ; 
On ne peut en avoir trop tot la jouissance : 

II faut presser pour estre heureux, 
Et I'amour est sans traits, et I'amour est sans feux 

Quand il est sans impatience." 

The Queen-mother, having entirely given up all 
political activity, was watching her son. She ascer- 
tained first — and it caused her great uneasiness — that 
he had relaxed very much in attention to religion, 
that he neither confessed nor communicated so often 
as he had been used to do.^ The familiarity between 
Louis and Henrietta blinded her to the real danger. 
By the time she heard of the King's liaison with 
Louise de La Valliere, a little before July 20, the 
mischief was done. Then she reproached her niece 

^ Histoire de Madame, p. 70, edition 1742. 

2 Letter of July 20, 1661, addressed to Foucquet by one of bis 
spies, whom M. Cheruel supposes to have been the Abb6 de Bel-Esbat. 
Memoires sur Foucquet, v. II. p. 169. 



Louise de La Valli^re 73 

for not having objected to the attention which the 
King was paying *' to that girl." She next attacked 
Monsieur, who took it as " a personal affront that 
the King should be in love with one of Madame's 
maids." Madame, in these changeable times, had 
done nothing to bring back her lover. If in the 
bottom of her heart she felt some anger, it was (all 
women are alike in this !) not against the man who 
had left her, but against the poor girl whom she 
had, to some extent, forced upon her fate. For the 
moment, since she had already entered upon a new in- 
trigue, nothing annoyed her more than being lectured. 
She had counted among the greatest advantages to be 
gained by marriage, the cessation of her mother's in- 
terference. That of her mother-in-law was simply 
intolerable, and her replies showed her irritation. 

Anne of Austria then spoke directly to her son. 
She put before him his duty towards God and the 
State ; told him the risks — the probability that many 
people would use this attachment to make plots 
against him, even to injure him in the future. She 
begged him also to help her to conceal his passion 
from the Queen, whose health demanded every con- 
sideration. Louis paid attention to the second piece 
of advice, but considered the first quite superfluous. 
He was persuaded that he understood perfectly how 
to reconcile his caprices with his duties.^ 

Mazarin had instructed him deeply on this subject, 

^ In the Recueil de pieces galantes en prose et en vers de Madame la 
comtesse de la Suze et de Monsietir Pelisson, etc., published in i6g6 
(Paris, Cavelier), is to be found a dialogue, Ergasis et £done, ou le 
Travail et la Volupte, The little piece deals with a curious theory 
upon this very subject. Ergasis sa3'S to £done : "Do not be too 
elated by the fact that this great Prince of whom you speak pays you 
many visits, and realise that it is only as a sort of refreshment after 
the weariness he must feel in ruling quite alone. He is of an age 
when he cannot be expected to avoid you ; but remember that, after 
all, he will not be pleased if you inspire his subjects with feelings 
so far removed from those which they ought to have," 



74 Louise de La Valli^re 

and, Mazarin being dead, the King was all the more 
willing to follow his maxims.^ 

Louise's mother did not appear. A contemporary 
song represents her as a calculating fiend.^ These 
horrible imputations would not be worth noticing if 
her ulterior behaviour did not give a certain appearance 
of truth to them. The step-father, M. de Saint-Remi, 
a simple fellow, born to be gulled, had not a very- 
clear head, as the sequel will show.^ The best we 
can say for these unworthy parents is that, living 
as they did at the Luxembourg, they were ignorant 
of much that went on at Fontainebleau. Moreover, 
everybody kept silent before the King. But if the 
advice and admonition of a mother were lacking to 
Louise de La Valliere, remorse spoke quickly enough, 
never ceasing to cry out (as she herself has said) in 
the midst of her most glorious moments. To remorse 
was added, from the very first, those social pin-pricks 
which are so much the more cruel because it is a 
point of honour not to appear to notice them. 

Among the young men who surrounded Louise 
with homage was Lomenie de Brienne, a nice boy, 
perhaps a little foppish, but utterly incapable of 
intentionally causing pain to anybody. He was always 
saying pretty things to the girl, and believed himself 
to be favourably listened to — unconscious, poor boy, 
that he was thus posing as a rival to his King.* An 

^ M. Clement has only been able to find a fragment of these 
precepts, but the iibellists of that time knew of them, at all events, 
by hearsay. See II Mercurio Postiglione, p. ii8. 

2 Recueil de Maurepas, v. I. See also Dlllustre Penitente, p. 20 
(Mons, 1 578) : " A mother more ambitious for her daughter than anxious 
to preserve her innocence." 

' Memoires de Beauvau, p. 220. Saint-Remi is badly enough spoken 
of in the Memoires de Goulas, v. II. p. 134. 

* The adventure of which we are going to speak is dated by what 
Brienne pere said to his son ; the Queen-mother had spoken to him 
a fortnight before of the love-affair between the King and La Valliere 
{^Memoires de Brienne^ v. II. p. 170), 



Louise de La Valli^re 75 

artist had just been summoned by him from Venice 
— one Le Febvre, of French origin, though he usually- 
lived abroad. This painter was in much request for 
medium-sized portraits, representing lords and ladies 
as gods or goddesses, or in the dress of their patron- 
saints.^ Tempted by the occasion, the audacious 
Brienne suggested to Louise de La Valliere that she 
should be painted as Magdalen. He was singularly 
unfortunate, for while he was laying this scheme before 
the maid-of-honour, still supposedly a virtuous young 
lady, the King passed by. Brienne began innocently 
to develop his plan, by remarking to Louis upon 
her beauty. Louise blushed, and the King moved 
on without replying. But that very evening, Brienne 
saw him talking excitedly to his new mistress in 
the embrasure of a window. Realising his blunder 
of the morning, and trying to repair it, he asked 
Mile de La Valliere if she still consented to be 
painted as Magdalen. Louis, who overheard him, 
came back : " No, she is too young to be painted as 
a penitent ; she must be painted as Diana." 

Brienne could not sleep all night after this shock. 
Next day he went to the King, who took him into 
the room called " Theagene and Charicl6e,"^ locked 
the door, then, turning towards the astonished and 
uneasy courtier : " Do you love her, Brienne ? " he 
asked politely but severely, without even mentioning 
Louise. " Who, sir .? Mile de La Valliere ? " " Yes, 
it is of her I speak." Then Brienne began to excuse 
himself, to confess that he felt some affection for the 

^ Le Febvre painted Madame as Venus, properly accompanied by 
Cupid. But in the distance was to be seen Adonis, hunting 1 (Brienne, 
Memoires, v. II. p. 171). 

* A State-room of the King's, so called because of a series of 
tableaux by Dubois representing the adventures of Theagene and 
Chariclee. See Guilbert, Description historique de Fontainebleau, 
V. I. p. X37. 



76 Louise de La Valli^re 

girl ; at last, losing his head, he declared that he 
was married. Louis, without paying any attention to 
this astonishing excuse (he could think of nothing but 
his love), said vehemently : " Brienne, you do love 
her ! why do you lie ? " " Ah ! sire, she pleases 
you even more — you love her." " Whether I do or 
not, leave her portrait alone, and you will please 
me." Louise de La Valli^re was nevertheless repre- 
sented as Diana, and the painter put Actason in 
the picture. " And poor Actaeon ! " said Brienne — 
" that was I— an innocent piece of spite thought out 
by the King ! " ^ 

Guiche, son of the Marechal de Grammont, was 
less accommodating than Brienne. Of all the young 
men at Court, he was the most attractive, the wittiest ; 
brave, already bearing honourable scars ; ^ a little vain 
unfortunately, and with a disdainful air, which some- 
what spoilt his charms. He had been married too 
young to a charming wife, and affected to despise her. 
At this time he was honouring La Valliere with his 
attentions. People began to ask if Guiche was the 
sort of man to tolerate a rival. This is astonishing ; 
but it must be attributed to the juvenility of Louis, 
and to the fact that he, together with this same 
Guiche, had been brought up quite familiarly with 
Tr^ville, Rohan, Lesdiguieres, and Brienne. These 
young men, finding their comrade not quite so lively 

^ There was once to be seen, at the Castle of Bures (Seine et Oise), 
a picture after the style of Le Febvre. It represented a young woman 
as Diana. In the background was Love pointing out Actseon to some 
nymphs. Diana's coiffure seems to indicate a time twenty or twenty- 
five years further on than that which we are occupied with ; but this 
is not sufficient to establish that the picture was not painted in i66l ; 
it might have been a fancy-coiffure afterwards adopted by fashion. 
Assuredly we do not mean to identify the Diana of Bures with the 
Diana of Fontainebleau. It is worth noting, however, that, according 
to one tradition, it is a portrait of the Princesse de Conti. 

2 He had received a terrible wound on the hand. 




From an engraving by R. Nanteuil 



LOUIS XIV. 



Louise de La Valli^re ']^ 

as themselves, took it into their heads that he was 
somewhat silly ; and from that early companionship they 
had retained a certain contempt for the King, who 
noticed it, and in whose mind it secretly rankled — 
to their ultimate undoing. 

At last, either from fear or from caprice, or else 
in remembrance of his part in the Royal ballet of 
L' Im-patience^ Guiche decided to withdraw in favour 
of his kingly rival ; but the imprudent boy did it with 
a very bad grace, and said most disagreeable things 
to Mile de La Valli^re. Then, since at twenty nothing 
can last, the very next day — as in a game of setting 
to partners ! — he took the King's former place beside 
Madame Henrietta, and that with such ostentation 
that Louis, who never allowed any one to adopt his 
own methods, ordered him to leave Fontainebleau. 
Upon this the Venetian Ambassador (these Italian 
diplomatists have often shown greater intelligence ! ) 
wrote to his Government that the union of the Royal 
Family grew closer every day ! ^ 

At last the ballet of the Saisons was given. 
Louise de La Valliere figured there beside Mile de 
La Motte-Argencourt, the Lady Disdain of 1659, and 
the lately-scorned Miles de Chimerault and de Pons. 
She represented a nymph, and this is the verse upon 
which she entered : 

" Cette beaut6 depuis peu n6e, 
Ce teint et ces vives couleurs, 
C'est le printemps avec ses fleurs, 
Qui promet une belle annee." 



^ "Mon cceur avec I'amour a toujours quelque affaire, 
Mais lorsque tout entier ma maitresse I'aura, 
Souvenez-vous que ce sera 
Si mon maitre n'en a que faire." 

^ '^ Sempre pill 7iella casa reale, si va crescendo Vamor!^ July 19, 
1661, file 27. MSS. de la Bibliotheque Nationale. File 27 contains 
only despatches sent on August 30, 1661. From it we now go to 
file 29, that is to March 7, 1662. 



yS Louise de La Valliere 

Very ordinary, but very prophetic lines ! The success 
of the ballet was wonderful. It was performed five 
times in one month. 

This little triumph of Louise was soon to be 
followed by a tremendous storm. 

Superintendent Foucquet, one of the Cardinal's 
former Ministers, and Colbert, Mazarin's confidential 
servant, applied themselves with equal assiduity, but 
in different ways, to discover what the new King would 
do — whether his arbitrariness would last, or whether 
he would weary of rule and turn to pleasure. 
Foucquet found out first that the King had become 
indifferent to religion, and that a cabal was being 
formed to entangle him with an unknown lady. On 
June 27 he heard, through that " good fellow," 
the Queen-mother's confessor, that Louise de La 
Valliere was the lady in question. 

Assuredly he must have seen her, a lady of the Court, 
at the hunting-parties and dancing in the ballets, but, 
enterprising as he was considered, he could not have 
paid attention to all the fair. Louise de La Valliere, 
without support of family or fortune, or any extra- 
ordinary beauty, and hitherto quite ignored, was hardly 
the kind of woman to attract a man of that age. But, 
when she became a personage, and what we would call 
in these days "a political factor," Foucquet began to 
study her, as he had for a long time studied the King. 

Very contradictory stories were told. La Loy, a 
vulgar go-between, paid attention to what Fouilloux said, 
for Fouilloux '* was not easily taken in." She said La 
Valliere had nothing whatever to do with it — it was 
all for Madame. And Fouilloux was still looking upon 
it as the first act of a comedy when, all of a sudden, 
the denouement was brought about by the wonderful 
power of Love. All pretence disappeared, and a true 
deep passion reigned in its stead. 



Louise de La Valli^re 79 

Soon it became impossible to conceal the real facts. 
From scandal, they proceeded to calumny. It was 
not La Valliere's first adventure ; there was no trick 
she had not employed to attract the King's attention. 
La Loy, who was highly experienced, and bitterly 
angry at not being in the secret of this new intrigue, 
suddenly threw light upon the matter ; she declared it 
was La Valliere who was the King's mistress, and that 
it must be a very serious affair since Louis surrounded 
it with so much mystery — a formidable mystery which 
Foucquet rashly made up his mind to penetrate. 

During the summer of 1661, the sun refused to 
shine. A great deal of earth was moved at Fontaine- 
bleau during the enlargement of the canal. The 
Superintendent, scarcely recovered from an illness which, 
in December, 1660, had brought him to the doors of 
death, wearied with overwork, preyed upon by worry, 
and occupied with the thousands of voluntary and 
involuntary obligations of Court life, was not long 
in succumbing to malaria. On August 3, the fever 
fastened upon his body. For long it had been 
enervating his mind, and the man's equilibrium was 
destroyed. 

We shall never know exactly what happened at this 
critical time. The prudence of the courtiers, the 
furious jealousy of the Prince, and the terror of the 
Court, have enwrapped it in impenetrable secrecy. 

Foucquet, the victim of his own cunning, wished 
to see with his own eyes and hear with his own 
ears. That he tried to supplant the King in Louise's 
favour, or acted the gallant after the manner of 
Guiche and Brienne, is wholly inadmissible. He 
wanted simply to make himself pleasant to the 
favourite, and, like all those whom luck is abandoning, 
he made mistake upon mistake, and did inconceivably 
maladroit things. His attentions to La Valliere were 



8o Louise de La Valli^re 

noticed, and commented upon at once to Menneville 
by a lady belonging to the Queen-mother's suite — and 
also belonging to Le Tellier. Moreover, the Comtesse 
de Soissons and Madame herself were annoyed. Mile 
de Fouilloux told this to La Loy, without however 
authorising her to repeat it to Foucquet, who, of 
course, heard everything within the hour. 

We have no date for this gossip, nor do we know 
if the Superintendent received it before or after the 
irreparable mistake which decided his fate. According 
to a letter, very suspect both as regards origin and 
style, Foacquet was supposed to have sent a go- 
between (possibly La Loy) to compliment La Valli^re 
on her beauty, offering her at the same time 20,000 
pistoles.^ The girl was supposed to have replied 
that 250,000 livres would not make her do wrong. 
The inefficient go-between tried to talk her over, but 
found that it was waste of breath, so she earnestly advised 
Foucquet to get the start, and denounce the maid-of- 
honour to the King, as having asked for the money. 

Foucquet was incapable of so dastardly an act, but 
in avoiding it, he fell into utter ruin. Meeting La 
Valliere in Madame's ante-room, he thought it a 
clever step to entertain her with praises of the King. 
He talked craftily to a woman whose only excuse for 
her wrong-doing was her incontestable candour ! 
Therefore, hardly understanding or perhaps misinter- 
preting his words, the girl, bitterly wounded that any 
one should try to penetrate the secret of her heart, 
recounted their conversation to the man she loved. 

Up to the present, Louis had suffered nothing worse 
than wounds to his self-esteem. When Mile de La 
Motte-Argencourt and the Mancini girls had accepted 

' True or false, this is to be found in a memoir of that time, // 
Mercurio Postiglione, p. 76. It speaks there of 25,000 doubles 
{doppie). 



Louise de La Valli^re 8i 

other homage than his, it had been a matter between 
himself and them, and the only revenge he took 
was to withdraw majestically. But now, in the first 
ardour of possessing a girl who loved him without 
coquetry, without ambition, "for himself," his jealousy 
became transformed into a blind and violent passion. 
While Foucquet tried to help him in this, he only saw — 
he was only allowed to see — that the Superintendent 
was a favourite with ladies for his wit, his charm, and 
his generosity. The ruin of the unfortunate man was 
all the more irrevocable because Louis concealed his 
anger, and no explanation was possible. 

Ever since May 4, he had grown gradually more deter- 
mined, for many reasons, upon Foucquet's ruin. In 
the middle of the Vaux festivities (August 17, 1661), 
which eclipsed even those at Fontainebleau,^ the King, 
more incensed ,than surprised at the Superintendent's 
magnificence, had suddenly resolved to have him 
arrested in his own Castle. But his mother represented 
to him that it would be unworthy of his Royal 
Majesty so to ill-use a man whose hospitality they 
had accepted. Louis restrained himself, finished plan- 
ning his journey to Bretagne,^ and left for Nantes, 
where, on September 5, he secured the arrest of his 
Minister. The unfortunate man was imprisoned for 
some time in the Castle of Amboise, where little La 
Valliere had spent the happiest years of her life. 
A still more curious coincidence was that the holder 
of the post of Lieutenant to the King was then 
Francois de La Valliere, own brother to Louise.^ 

^ This was not the first time the King had been to Vaux. For a long 
time every one had been talking about the decorations of the Castle. 

' On August 4, the Gazette speaks of the preparations for a journey- 
to Bretagne (i66l, p. 797). It says also, on the 17th, after the journey 
to Vaux, "their Majesties' showed entire satisfaction " {Ibid. p. 798). 

^ In 1659, Fran9ois de La Baulme Le Blanc, Lord of La Valliere, 
was appointed Lieutenant to the King at Amboise. Inventaire analy- 
tique des archives municipales d' Amboisey p. 113. 

6 



82 Louise de La Valliere 

The authoritative act at Nantes had its consequences 
at Fontainebleau, where the two Queens of France 
were. The Queen of England joined them there. ^ 
Devotional exercises replaced the balls. There were 
no more romantic walks, but, instead, pilgrimages to 
neighbouring shrines. Meditative evenings terminated 
pious days. The Gentlemen of the Council went 
about alone, with a preoccupied air. Every one was 
living in an atmosphere of uneasiness and over- 
excitement. There, as at Nantes, the thunderbolt 
was to fall, but this time it missed its mark. 

Anne of Austria was just then violently exasperated 
by poor Louise, who, she considered, was taking 
her son away from his duties. She would willingly 
have dismissed her from Court, but she was too much 
afraid of the King to do that. Mile de La Motte- 
Argencourt of whom Louis no longer took any notice, 
was to suffer for the real culprit. In her anger, 
seeing the possibility of another victim, the Queen- 
mother took offence because the girl had, contrary 
to her directions, continued speaking to M. de 
Richelieu, and impressed upon her the necessity of 
shutting herself up in a convent. La Motte chose 
that of the Filles de Sainte-Marie de Chaillot. This 
name is worth remembering, for if the example had 
little effect, the remembrance of the deed impressed 
itself for ever upon the earnest soul of La Valliere, 
who during this stormy time, either from remorse 
or from prudence, lived a very retired life, hardly 
going out of her room — a tiny place among the 
garrets under the roof. 



At this time, when several ladies of renown were 

'■ Gazette de France, August 25, 1661. Mme de Motteville errone- 
ously refers to the 28th, and, in the last edition, to September i. 
See Memoires, v. IV. p. 285. 



Louise de La Valliere 83 

shaking in their shoes on learning of the seizure of 
Foucquet's papers,^ Louise — a frank sinner — felt herself 
guilty only before God. She saw the King again 
on September 9.^ Absence, that final death-blow to 
a failing love, only intensifies its ardour in the 
beginning. Louis, having ridden post-haste day 
and night, came back more eager, more tender than 
ever. But then Louise had to follow her mistress and 
leave Court. So, one morning, the King mounted 
his horse and galloped as far as Vincennes, where he 
took a survey of the Castle. Thence, after having 
inspected the works at the Tuileries, he posted to 
Saint-Cloud, then to Versailles ; early in the evening 
of the same day, he returned to Fontainebleau, having 
covered no less than thirty-seven leagues.^ This 
exploit, almost incredible in our enervated times, 
astonished his contemporaries. But none of them 
understood the reason for it. Monsieur, Madame, 
and Madame's maid-of-honour, Louise de La Valliere, 
were then at Saint-Cloud, and it was at Saint-Cloud 
that the King dined. 

Shortly afterwards, Madame Henriette and her 
household went back to Fontainebleau. Nevertheless, 



1 The importance of these papers has been much exaggerated. See 
J. Lair, Nicolas Foucquet, II. p. 86. 

2 Mme de La Fayette says the 8th, Loret the 9th. 

" Le neuf de ce mois que I'Aurore 
Chez Titon reposait encore. . . 
Sa personne a telle heure indue 
N'6tant nullement attendue." . . 

La Muze historique, v. III. p. 403. 

* " En icelle seule journee 

Ayant fait, a n'en mentir pas. 
Plus de cent douze mille pas, 
A compter trois mille par lieue." 

Loret, La Muze historique, v. III. p. 406. All the contemporary 
writers bear witness to the truth of this. See Choisy, Memoires, 
P- 59O1 published by Michaud and Poujoulat. 



84 Louise de La Valli^re 

there was neither the April gaiety nor the June 
brilliancy to be seen. The Queen was nearing her 
confinement, and only went out to church. Madame 
was also about to give birth to a child, and was ill 
both physically* and mentally. Every one, besides, was 
upset at the fall of the Superintendent. Money was 
getting scarce, and all purses were tightly shut. 

A still greater calamity came to pass ; at the end 
of a summer whose tropical heat had been broken 
only by the most terrible storms, the spectre of famine 
threatened the autumn. The greater festivities were 
replaced by small hunting-parties in the yellowing 
woods. But what did it matter ? Almost indifferent 
to external things, the lovers loved anything which 
brought them together : the ball where they clasped 
hands, the chase where they rode side by side, the 
sound of music, or the deep silence of the woods — 
all were equally propitious to love-confidences. 

If one wished to point out the happiest moments 
of Louise de La Valliere's tormented life, one would 
choose the October of 1661. 



During this time, Marie-Therese, that innocent victim 
of a political alliance, lived in an atmosphere of mystery 
and silence, which was the outcome partly of fear, partly 
of pity. Obliged by her condition only to go out in 
her carriage, she could neither see nor hear anything. 
Her devotions absorbed her. Once only she broke 
through her reserve — and precisely when it would 
have been best to be circumspect. 

At the news of the insult offered to the French 
Ambassador in London by the Spanish Ambassador, 
Louis became so furious that, forgetting the care due 
to the Queen, he broke out before her into threats 



Louise de La Valli^re 85 

of revenge against his father-in-law, brutally expelled 
M. de Fuensaldagne, and forbade all communication 
with Madrid. Marie-Therese, in her turn, flew into 
a passion, bitterly reproached him, and took her 
father's part against her husband. Nothing could have 
wounded the King more. This crisis lasted during 
the second half of October. It was then that the 
young monarch went off riding into the forest with 
his mistress and some friends. But the cold wind, dis- 
mantling the trees, soon drove his guests to Paris. 
Madame went away on November 25, taking with 
her the favourite, still unknown as such, and 
desiring nothing better than this fortunate obscurity. 
Louis remained with the Queen, expecting her con- 
finement every day. It would be unfair, " in this 
history of his weaknesses, not to show how well he 
behaved during the time of trial. On November i, 
at five o'clock in the morning, he -confessed and 
communicated. Every one was anxious. From the 
ante-room, Marie-Therese could be heard shrieking 
in anguish : Non quiero parir^ quiero morir (" I don't 
want to have a child, 1 want to die "). The King, the 
Queen-mother, everybody whose rank authorised him 
to be near the patient, wandered continually from the 
room to the chapel. At last, towards midnight, a 
Dauphin was born, whom Louis himself showed to 
the crowd assembled in the Court of the Oval. 

The Sovereign's emotion and piety had a most moving 
effect upon these good people. They loyally wanted 
to believe that, except for the ordinary transports of 
youth, Louis had a real affection for the Queen. But 
the diplomatist who still officially represented Spain, 
while sending the news of the Dauphin's birth to Madrid, 
added some quaint reflections upon the religion of 
the French, who prayed to God in need, but utterly 
forgot Him in prosperity. M. de Vuorden (a cold 



86 Louise de La Valli^re 

and judicial Fleming) did not believe in sudden 
emotions born either of desire or of fear ! 

The end of the year 1661, which witnessed the 
fall of Louise de La Valli^re, was edified by the con- 
version of a notable sinner. On November 24, 
Madame Henriette, having worn herself out with 
imaginary troubles, was returning to Paris, reading a 
packet of the Comte de Guiche's letters, which had 
been thrown into her litter by the intriguing Montalais, 
Louise was with her, wrapt in thought. On that 
very day, a great Princess, Mme de Longueville, was 
commencing her general confession. She had resigned 
herself " to stirring up that dung-heap again." 
Utterly prostrated, afraid to raise her eyes to the altar, 
she compared herself to the Magdalen, called herself 
a miserable wretch, unworthy of the smallest atom of 
Divine Mercy. She longed to mortify her body, that 
accomplice of her wickedness, to retire far from all 
the world. It was " horrible presumption to think 
oneself fit to help one's neighbours ; when one was lost 
oneself, one was not worthy to serve others," Finally, 
when this penitent was admitted to Holy Communion, 
a cry escaped from her grateful lips : Ciuid retribuam 
Domino pro omnibus qua retribuit mihi (" What shall I 
render unto the Lord for all His mercies .''"). These 
thoughts, and even these very expressions, we shall 
hear later from the lips of Louise de La Valliere. And 
there is another no less surprising coincidence. It was 
to the church of the Carmelites that Mme de Longue- 
ville then made retreat most often, ^ and eighteen 
years afterwards her heart was to be received there 
by Louise de La Valliere, then Sister Louise de la 
Misericorde, Carmelite Nun. 

^ See Cousin, (Euvres, Litterature, v. III. pp. 196, 203, 216, 223. The 
piece quoted is a sort of confession commenced on November 24, 1661, 
and finished in January, 1662. We shall return later to the striking 
likeness between this and the Reflexions, a work by La Valliere. 



CHAPTER IV 

NOVEMBER, 1661 MARCH, 1662 

AS a thanksgiving for the Queen's happy deliver- 
ance, the King made a pilgrimage to Notre 
Dame de Chartres. The country was pro- 
foundly impressed. But alas ! scarcely an hour after 
his return to Paris (December lo, 1661) he hurried 
(leaving Marie-Ther^se at the Louvre), to the 
Tuileries in search of Madame — or rather, of Louise de 
La Valliere, whom he had not seen for a fortnight. 
His visits became very frequent. Madame was ill ; 
and Louis did not weary her by a long stay. He would 
pay a formal visit, a formal compliment ; then, quickly 
taking leave of the rest, he would retire to a distant 
room with his mistress.^ " All the doors were left 
open ; but people were less likely to interrupt them 
than if they had been triple-locked." 

Faithful to her duty, Anne of Austria kept inces- 
santly scolding her son. She even seems to have 
approached him indirectly as well. The Gazette de 
France^ in its New Year number, waxed enthusi- 
astic about Louis. " This incomparable sovereign, as 
wise as he is valiant. . . crowned, at twenty-three, 

^ " The King went there very often. At Fontainebleau it had been 
doubted that he was really in love with her. The Comte de Guiche 
said he was ; but people soon found out the truth. The King was La 
Valliere's lover, and de Guiche was Madame's. The kind of gossip 
that is supposed to be a secret, and that every one perfectly under- 
stands ! " (Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. III. p. 527). 

87 



88 Louise de La Valli^re 

with victory, tranquillity, and affection." Affection 
meant, of course, *' a wife and an heir — the climax of 
earthly hopes." ^ Almost certainly the paper had 
been given a hint of the King's new passion, and was 
now following it up by this excellent domestic homily. 
Nevertheless, the fun began all over again with the 
New Year. Monsieur gave a performance of La 
Poison d'Or, by Pierre Corneille ; Madame, a ballet in 
nine scenes — the King danced in it, and represented the 
Sun. There was a grand performance every week, 
either at the Tuileries or the Louvre. Bread was 
scarce, famine was ravaging the country : but dear 
me ! where was " the country " ? In Paris one 
simply imported wheat, and had one's bread baked 
in huge ovens that were built in the very court- 
yard of the Tuileries itself, between two ball-rooms.^ 
How should they remember the poor, while they 
watched the splendours of the ballet of Hercule 
amoureux^ in which, besides Madame's young ladies, 
there figured all the pretty women of the two Queens' 
suites ! A dazzlingly beautiful girl made her first ap- 
pearance in this ballet — Athenai's de Mortemart, then 
called Mile de Tonnay-Charente, and later known to 
fame as Mme de Montespan. But, precocious 
coquette though she was, she then attracted none of the 
longed-for Royal attention ; the King thought of no 
one but Louise de La Valli^re. Far from diminishing, 
his passion waxed fiercer every day. In spite of the 
tact shown at Madame' s, where " open doors were as 
if triple-locked," he soon broke through even that 
degree of constraint, and, by his orders, Louise would 
feign indisposition, so as to remain in her own small 
apartment. 

1 Loret, so early as August, i66l, had honoured Louise de La 
Valliere with a notice. _ _ ^ 

2 See the reproduction of a contemporary engraving in L'Histoire de 
France d'apres les monuments, byBoRDiERand Charton, v. H. p. 243. 



Louise de La Valli^re 89 

That marked a further stage along a path which 
seemed so inviting, and was to prove so fatal. By- 
shutting herself up in this fashion, the girl escaped 
open comment ; but, at the same time, her situation 
as the King's mistress became, as it were, a recognised 
thing. Moreover, false positions entail invidious 
companionships. Soon there installed herself at Louise 
de La Valliere's that Montalais damsel whom we 
have already come across at Blois, at the somewhat 
ill-disciplined Court of the Dowager-Madame ; and 
again, later on, at Fontainebleau, as the go-between for 
the Comte de Guiche and Madame, to whom Mile 
de Montpensier had recommended her. 

The girl, who was well-born enough, was con- 
nected with the Bueil family. Two centuries before 
her time, a certain Jean de Bueil had composed an 
excellent educational treatise, in which he enjoined 
young folks not to be '* too greedy for Court dainties." 
Evidently his young descendant had not read it — or, if 
she had, she had forgotten it. With no resources of 
her own, and frantically disappointed at not playing a 
" star-part," she did her very best to make a big one 
out of the humble confidant's. The King, who dis- 
liked her and thought her intriguing, had forbidden 
his mistress to speak to her. Louise " obeyed him in 
public, but Montalais would spend whole nights with 
her sometimes, and very often whole days too." To 
fill up the rest of her spare time, this very important 
young woman would go from M. de Guiche to 
Madame, and from Mile de Tonnay-Charente to the 
Marquis de Noirmoutiers, chattering to each of the 
love-affairs of the rest, and requiring from all a secrecy 
which simple La Valliere was alone in keeping. 
Louise's conduct in not revealing the Comte de 
Guiche's relations with Madame was all the more 
admirable because the Princess was freezingly disdainful 



90 Louise de La Valli^re 

to her, and also because she had promised the King 
that she would hide nothing from him. 

Now Louis, very suspicious and very acute as well, 
easily divined the Montalais game ; he also divined 
the state of affairs with his sister-in-law, and questioned 
Louise, who would say nothing. He insisted, and 
finally flew into a rage as violent as it was unavailing. 
The girl, so strong for all her weakness, obstinately 
refused to betray the secret of her rival and enemy. 
The King left, still furious ; she was in despair. 
*' They had often vowed that, whatever they might 
quarrel about, they would never go to sleep without 
making it up, and writing to one another." Yet 
the night came, and the night passed : never a word. 
Louise thought all was over, and lost her head ; she 
left the Tuileries with the dawn. Her mother was 
still living at the Luxembourg, but, either from pride 
or from distrust, the poor child did not betake herself 
there. She went along the banks of the Seine, walking 
straight on in her anguish, until she came to the little 
village of Chaillot. There was a monastery — at that 
time a famous one — in Chaillot, that of the Visitation, 
whither Mile de La Motte-Argencourt had but a few 
months ago retired. But the fugitive would not — or 
dared not — present herself there. She went on up the 
quarry-seamed hill, and finally knocked at the door of 
an obscure convent where dwelt some poor nuns, quite 
recently established, scarcely indeed as yet legally recog- 
nised. They refused to receive her inside the grating — 
she had to stay in the outside parlour. There she sank 
down, worn out with fatigue, cold, and utter misery.-^ 

1 Hist: de Madame Henriette, p. 89. It has not been easy to fix for 
certain the locaHty of this convent. Mademoiselle and Saint-Simon say 
Saint-Cloud ; but Mme de La Fayette, who wrote a few years after the 
event, says Chaillot. The libel called Le Palais-Royal, published 
about 1667, says Chaillot also. Now Mme de La Fayette was writing 
from Henrietta's dictation about 1665 ; we must therefore accept her 



Louise de La Valliere 91 

This took place about February 24. On that day, 
Don Christoval de Gaviria, Spanish Ambassador, was 
received at the Louvre for a farewell audience. 
Suddenly the King was observed to betray great 
agitation. A name had been whispered — was circu- 
lating through the groups — it was that of his mistress, 
" What is it ? Tell me ! " "La Valliere has taken the 
vows at Chaillot." Fortunately the Ambassadors were 
gone, for the King would totally have forgotten them, 
so overwhelmed was he by this intelligence. 

It was the Lenten season. To the audience a 
sermon was to have succeeded, but Louis was in no 
humour to hear it. Directly he knew where La 
Valhere had gone, he galloped off there, " his face 
hidden in a grey cloak." He found her still in the 
parlour, lying on the ground, weeping wildly. They 
were left alone together, and Louise at length told 
him all that she had concealed. The avowal did 
not win her full forgiveness ; but the King ordered 
her to return, and had a carriage fetched so that she 
might come at once.^ 

version. Moreover, there was no "obscure convent "at Saint-Cloud, 
while there ivtzs one at Chaillot. " These nuns," says the Abb6 le 
Beuf {Hist: du diocese de Paris, v. III. p. 57), "were transferred to 
Chaillot in the year 1659, although their letters-patent date only from 
1671." The Abbey of Sainte-Perine, of la Villette, was later joined 
to this convent, and they were both called by the Abbey's name. 

1 Hist: de Madame Henriette, p. 90. It is clear, from our narrative, 
that the King had not to threaten to force the gates of the convent. 
Some writers have confused an incident of 1670 with one of 1662. 
The date is sufficiently indicated by the account in the Hist: du Palais- 
Royal, which tells of the reception of the Spanish Ambassadors ; and 
by Mile de Montpensier, who says " it was Lent." Don Gaviria was 
received at the Louvre on February 24 or 25. See the Gazette, or 
La Muze historique, v. III. p. 475. February 24 fell on a Friday. 
It is true that the Gazette mentions no sermon by Bossuet on that 
day (Floquet, Rtttdes sur la Vie de Bossuet, v. I. p. 146). But 
it does mention one on Sunday, the 26th. Finally, La Valhere's flight 
must have taken place in February, for in March we know that a 
complicated intrigue was got up against her. She was then back at 
the Tuileries, which she was to leave with Madame, towards the 
middle of the month, to go to the Palais-Royal. 



92 Louise dc La Vallihre 

But then another difficulty arose. Monsieur hastened 
to declare that he was very glad that " that girl " was 
out of his house, and that he had no intention of having 
her back. The King, ignoring his brother, " entered 
the Tuileries by the private staircase, and went into 
a little room, whither Madame was summoned. He 
did not wish to be seen, for he had been crying." 
Madame was no more inclined than was Monsieur 
to take back La Valliere. Louis attempted to break 
down her resistance by telling her all he had just 
heard about her ; but that was stupid of him. 
Henrietta was foolish and light enough, but she was 
very proud, very touchy, and therefore most unHkely 
to yield to that kind of pressure. She was ready to 
promise to break with de Guiche, but not to take 
back her maid-of-honour. But at last she did yield 
to the Royal tears, and Louise came back to her 
room at the Tuileries. 

So ended this little incident. The hour of retreat 
had not yet sounded. Not repentance for her wrong- 
doing, but a fit of vexation it was, which had swept 
the girl to that convent-door. Nevertheless, her 
flight plainly showed where deeper feeling would take 
her, when once she should begin to reflect. At this 
moment, there was but one idea in her head, and that 
was to regain the King's confidence. He did not 
quickly accord it her. " He could not get over her 
having been capable of hiding anything from him, 
and she was wretched because he was not pleased with 
her, so that she was really almost ofl^ her head for 
some time." ^ 

Louis was excessively jealous. Was he not a demi- 
god, and should any one share in the adoration due 

1 Nisf: de Madame Henriette, p. 91. The Abb6 Lequeux has 
followed these memoirs in the notice at the beginning of his edition 
of the Lettres de La Valliere, 



Louise de La Valli^re 93 

to Royalty ! It was by exciting this instinctive jealousy 
that Mazarin had extinguished his dawning passion for 
Mile de La Motte-Argencourt. The suspicion of 
some sympathy between Marie Mancini and Charles 
of Lorraine had been enough to cut short a relation in 
which the young Sovereign had been near to sacrificing 
his honour. In 1662 Louis was more of the King — 
but he was still young ; and the young King was like 
any other young man, and could feel desperately 
jealous. He went so far as actually to question the 
Montalais girl. He was always afraid of " not being 
the first man whom his mistress had loved." And 
some rumours of the Bragelonne flirtation had reached 
his ears — did Louise cherish tender memories ? He 
shuddered at the thought, and incessantly brought 
up the topic, eagerly questioning both La Valliere and 
Montalais. As the latter " was a better liar " than 
her friend, " he was always easier in his mind after 
she had had her say " ; and yet poor Louise, " utterly 
absorbed in her passion for him," scarcely ever saw 
any of her former admirers, scarcely ever indeed even 
heard of them. Heedless of the future, heedless of 
the fact that many now looked to her for all sorts of 
little favours and condescensions from Royalty, and 
would be incensed at her inaccessibility, " she thought 
of nothing but loving, and being loved by, the King." 
Although she had not been Louis' mistress for 
more than eight or nine months at the outside, La 
Valliere quickly began to experience the disagreeables of 
a life which might well be figured as one of unmixed 
delight. She had to endure disdainful airs and malicious 
speeches from Madame, the familiarity of a girl like 
Montalais, the jealousy of an adulated Prince. Vainly 
did she hope to obliterate her error by modesty and . 
disinterestedness ; such unusual qualities were more re- 
sented than pride or avidity would have been. If she 



94 Louise de La Valli^re 

did not profit by " the advantages and the credit 
ensured her by so violent a love-affair, it was because 
she was too stupid." A favourite was, in fact, regarded 
as a political factor. Louise's extreme reserve, which 
ought to have disarmed jealousy, merely succeeded in 
exasperating ambition. 



Ambition ! It always has a numerous following, 
and most of them, in this case, were women. It is 
somewhat singular to observe that men — even those 
who were most acutely disappointed, most accustomed 
to a liberty now no longer theirs — had quickly re- 
cognised, and submitted to, the young King's absolute 
domination at Court. The women rebelled much 
longer ; and one above all, the Comtesse de Soissons, 
nee Olympe Mancini, was implacable. Olympe, of all 
Mazarin's nieces the most " Mazarinesque " ; Olympe, 
crafty and ambitious, had made it her first care to gain 
an assured position in society by her marriage with 
a Prince who belonged both to the House of Savoy 
and to the Soissons branch of the Bourbons. Such 
alliances ensured her — or at any rate she thought so — 
very great influence at the French Court, mitigating 
circumstances in case of disgrace, and, in any event, 
the protection of a Princely House. ^ 

She "went slowly" for three years — from 1657 to 
1660 — and then, her star dawned. She had got rid 
of her sisters — Marie, formidable in intellect, but now 
exported to Rome ; Hortense, equally redoubtable in 
beauty, but now the prey of a jealous husband, M. de 
la Meilleraye. M. de Soissons was quite different. 
A " good husband " — by the ladies' standard — he 

' They were of some use to her in the end ; Louis XIV. had to 
reckon with these aUiances. See Ravaisson, Archives de la Bastille, 
V. IV. p. 73. 



Louise de La Valli^re 95 

thought himself the master because he always took 
his wife's part. Thus when, in 1661, he was egged 
on by Olympe to offend the Due de Navailles, he 
got himself exiled from Court by the King, who 
however kept the Countess by him. Olympe, it will 
be remembered, had managed to obtain the appoint- 
ment of Superintendent of the Queen's Household 
in 1660, when Marie-Therese was still incapable of 
having any opinion on Mazarin's selection. Almost 
immediately after the marriage, the Queen noticed 
that the King spent all his leisure-time at the Soissons 
habitation.^ She complained of it, and Anne of Austria 
supported her. Olympe paid scant attention to either. 
Crafty as she was, she lent herself at first complaisantly 
enough to the Royal flirtation with La Valliere : if 
the King was for ever with that girl^ nobody could say 
it was the Comtesse de Soissons who kept him away from 
the Queen. But so soon as the flirtation developed 
into a passionate love-affair, Olympe's complaisance 
altered into jealousy, and jealousy soon turned to 
deadly hatred.^ 

As auxiliary, or rather accomplice, she selected 
Rene-Frangois du Bec-Crespin, Marquis de Vardes, 
a son of Jacqueline de Bueil, Comtesse de Moret, 
ex-mistress of Henri IV. He was brave enough, 
but very intriguing, and a terrible liar. Nevertheless, 
he was a glass of fashion : he was " delicious." ^ Ten 
years older than any of the rest of his set, Vardes, 
young in face, but hoary in vice, was making love 
to Madame all the while he was conspiring with the 
Countess. His wife, a Nicola'i, had died in 1660, 

^ Olympe " was mistress of the Court, of the festivities, of the Royal 
favours " (Saint-Simon, v. IV. p. 254). 

^ Saint-Simon says erroneously that the King was always at the 
Countess's before and after his marriage. After, yes ; before, no. See 
our account of the journey to Lyons. 

^ Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, V. IV. p. 279. 



gS Louise de La Valliere 

and her death had been the source of some annoyance 
to her widower. He was so attractive that only too 
many traps were set to catch him as a husband ! 
The dying lady had left him a little daughter — the 
price of her own life. Some sense of duty might 
well have steadied Vardes now ; but worthlessness 
was his chosen role. He played the inconsolable 
husband for a while, then handed his daughter over 
to her mother's family — which was, one must admit, the 
best thing he could have done for her. 

Louise de La Valliere was hardly back from her 
flight to the Chaillot convent before the two allies 
launched a sort of infernal machine against her. They 
had determined to provoke so huge a scandal that the 
poor girl would be obliged to leave the Tuileries and 
the Court for good, and so give up her post to another, 
" whom they might be better able to make use of." ^ 
The Queen as yet knew nothing of the King's passion : 
Anne of Austria's maternal care had kept it from her 
ears. On the day that Louis fled from the sermon 
to Chaillot in search of his mistress, Anne of Austria 
had distracted the attention of her daughter-in-law, 
whom she knew to be of very jealous disposition. 

This jealousy was precisely what Vardes and Mme 
de Soissons were counting on for their brilliant exploit, 
and for obtaining the dismissal of a mistress who was 
too disinterested to be of any service to them. They 
had resolved to warn the Queen, by means of an 
anonymous letter, which was to be supposed to come 
from Spain. Vardes composed it, and, as Marie- 
Th6r^se was not as yet able to read French well, the 

1 Hz'sf: de Madame Henriette^ confirmed by Quiche's letter to the 
King. See Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, v. II. p. 193. This 
letter demonstrates Mme de La Fayette's scrupulous exactitude. See 
Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, V. IV. p. 373 ; and, above all, the despatch of 
Sagredo, the Venetian Ambassador, to the Doge ; Archives de la 
Bastille, v. I. p. 284, 



Louise de La Valli^re 97 

Marquis, remembering that Guiche was a fairly good 
Spanish scholar, persuaded him to join the plot 
by exciting him to anger against the maid-of-honour 
who had repulsed him at Fontainebleau. " He told 
him that La Valliere had been trying to ruin him, 
and was evidently trying still, for she had denounced 
him to the King as having been disrespectful to her." 

The anonymous letter, somehow translated by 
Guiche, was put into an old envelope that the 
Comtesse de Soissons had managed to pick up in the 
Queen's room.^ Everything had been carefully 
thought out. Towards the beginning of March, 1662,^ 
the intriguers profited by Gaviria's departure, which 
made it seem natural enough that a packet of letters 
should arrive by another hand. A man who was 
sure not to reappear in Paris for a long time took 
the one in question to a guard named Saint-Eloy, 
charging him to transmit it to one of the Queen's 
maids, called la Risse, This la Risse was of doubtful 
reputation, and Vardes counted upon her at once 
delivering the packet to Marie-Therese.^ The plot 

* The author of the libel, La Princesse ou Us Amours de Madame, 
gives the text of this letter. The work is so manifestly composed by 
an ignorant person that one cannot give it much credence. For 
example, Guiche is made to say that it was he who slipped the letter 
into the Queen's bed, where it was found by Dona Molina, who took 
it to the King! And there are many other as palpable blunders. 
Anyhow, here is the text : " To the Queen.— The King is rushing into 
a licentious intrigue which is known to every one except your Majesty. 
Mile de La Valliere is the object of his attachment. Some faithful 
servants warn your Majesty. It is for yourself to decide whether you 
can love the King when he comes to you from another's arms, or if you 
will resolve to prevent a thing which must dishonour you if it 
continues." See Hist: amour: des Gaules, v. III. p. 167. 

* Guiche, in his letter, says that they took advantage of the departure 
of Don Christoval de Gaviria. Now he had had his farewell audience 
on Feb. 25. Guiche adds that the letter was given on a day when 
the King was at Versailles. He went there on March ist {Gazette de 
France, 1662, p. 217). 

' The Royal letters were transmitted through the Ambassadors, 
Those which came by post were handed directly to the King by a 



9^ Louise dc La Vallifere 

failed through excess of precautions. The letter fell 
into the hands of Dona Molina, a sensible and devoted 
woman. Fearing some bad news from the Queen's 
home (the King of Spain was then ill) the duenna took 
upon herself to open the letter, and, having read it, 
carried it to the Queen-mother, who ordered her 
to communicate it to the King on his return from 
Versailles. Vardes was with him, hoping to enjoy 
the sight of his first outburst of rage. Louis read the 
letter. He was at first surprised, uneasy — then his 
face flamed with anger. Amazed at finding any one 
in his kingdom so insolent as to meddle in his private 
affairs, he roughly asked Molina if the Queen had 
seen the letter, and when she had told him " No " 
more than once, he put the missive in his pocket, where 
he kept it carefully. 

The plot had failed — but who had woven it .? ^ 
For long the mystery was impenetrable. Louis ad- 
dressed himself to Vardes, as " a clever man in 
whom he had confidence." The unscrupulous Vardes 
threw suspicion on the Duchesse de Navailles, one 
of the Queen's Ladies — an excellent woman, who 

functionary whom we now entitle directetir-generai. See despatch 
from Sagredo to the Doge of Venice, March 20, 1665, Archives de la 
Bastille, v. I. p, 284; TfO'P.WE.ssci^, Journal, v. II. p. 330. 

There is an official account of this incident in a despatch from Lionne 
to Comminges, Ambassador to England {Archives of Foreign Affairs, 
England^ vol. 84, fol. 102) : 

"Account of the affair with Vardes and the Comte de Guiche : they 
had together fabricated a letter in Spanish, telling of the intrigue with 
Mile de La Valliere, and had had it given to one of the Queens 
women, Senora Molina, who prudently abstained from showing it 
to her mistress." 

(Communicated by my deplored friend, Achille Moranville.) 

1 Hist: de Madame Henriette, p. 96 ; Mme de Motteville, v. IV. 
p. 326. There are notable differences between these two accounts, 
from which Sagredo's despatch also differs ; but the essentials are the 
same, and Mme de Motteville, who was MoHna's friend, claims the 
preference. She was the only person who knew the facts three 
years before the authors of " this wretched invention " were dis- 
covered. 



Louise de La Valli^re 99 

later on suffered cruelly from this abominable 
calumny.^ 

These incidents, so trifling to the reader, but so 
important to the actors and supernumeraries in them, 
took place between February and March, 1662. It 
would be a mistake to measure by their standard all 
the personages of that time, or even some of those 
who were on the stage in this very act in the 
eternal comedy of human weakness. At this Lenten 
season, Louis and his Court were attending the Chapel 
Royal at the Louvre, where for the first time "the 
Abbe Bossuet, Doctor in Theology of the Faculty 
of Paris," was preaching. It is a joy and a relief 
to study his powerful phrases, which express a mind 
then almost at its best ; a joy, too, to find that the 
orator's character was as lofty as his noble eloquence. 

On February 26, 1662, the day after La Valliere's 
flight to the convent, when she had been back at 
the Tuileries for some hours, Bossuet preached the 
sermon for the First Sunday in Lent. He spoke 
trenchantly against " those delicate passions which in 
ordinary people are called vices," against " treacherous 
attentions," against " evil living." He exhorted the 
King to hearken to the voice of his conscience. 
" Then the Divine Word will rush in, as with a 
scourge, breaking every idol, casting down every altar 
where the creature is adored. . ." " O God, Thou 
seest where I stand, and Thou knowest the words 
that I should say. Give me those words — those all- 
powerful words ; give me prudence ; give me strength ; 
give me circumspection ; give me simplicity. Sire, 
it is God who truly speaks from this pulpit. May 
He speak though the inspiration of His Holy Spirit, 

^ Vardes also tried to make the King suspect Mile de Montpensier, 
"whose mind is so restless." Sagredo's Despatch to the Doge. 
Archives de la Bastille, v. I. p. 285. 



loo Louise de La Valli^re 

for He alone can do this great thing ; man must hide 
his head." 

Bossuet is now so thoroughly vindicated from the 
reproach of being insensible to the misery of the poor 
that we do not feel obliged to quote his vigorous 
sermon of March 5, 1662, upon charity. He did 
more than preach upon charity. He reminded his 
Prince, who was so inclined to absolutism, that above 
his earthly Kingdom there was another, in which 
Sovereigns would meet on equal terms with their 
subjects, " whom the grace of Jesus Christ and the 
Heavenly Insight will have changed into their com- 
panions" (March 8 or 10, 1662). No one escaped 
his just censure. He knew — none better — the atmo- 
sphere of that Court, where gallantry was encouraged 
and politics were forbidden. He lavished counsel ; he 
condemned flattery, condemned favour-hunting. " O 
Court, so truly august and kingly, if I could but 
destroy the ambition which is ruining you, the 
jealousies which are staining you as with blood,^ the 
pleasures which are corrupting you, the iniquities 
which are dishonouring you ! . . ." Then, coming 
to the primary cause of all these disorders : " If I 
were to speak my thought out plainly ! Love is in 
some sort the god of the heart. Love moves all — 
even the most secret recesses of the soul. Is he not 
then, as I have said, the god of the heart, or rather 
its idol, which usurps the empire of God ? . . . O 
King, listen to Jesus, and learn of Him, the King 
of Glory, that our hearts are meant to love God alone, 
and that we must help others to do the same. O 
creatures, shameful idols that ye are, leave this Royal 

V In our opinion Bossuet here alludes to a duel which had taken 
place on January 20, near Chaillot, between eight gentlemen — the 
Marquis de Noirmoutiers, de la Fert6, Chalais, the Marquis d'Antin, 
nephew of the Archbishop of Sens, etc. (Guy-Patin, Lettres, v. II. 
p. 306). 



Louise de La Valli^re loi 

heart ! Shadows, phantoms, disappear in presence 
of the Truth ! The Love of Love, the Truth, desires 
to enter this heart ; false love, deceitful passion, will 
ye dare to stand before the Truth ? " And, pursuing 
the theme : " O God," he cried, " what shall we ask 
of Thee for this great monarch ? All prosperity ? 
Yea, Lord, and much more — all virtues, both as King 
and as Christian ; not one may be lacking, not one, 
not one ! He must have them all, let the world 
say what it will. . . We must have him wholly 
perfect. . . 'Tis his glory, his greatness itself, that 
he is obliged to stand to us for an example ; it would 
be our common misfortune if there were one shadow 
on his illustrious career. Yes, Sire — your pity, your 
justice, your innocence are the guarantees of public 
felicity. There is a God in Heaven who avenges 
the sins of peoples. . . but above all, the |sins of 
Kings. It is He who wills me to speak as I do ; and 
if Your Majesty will hear Him, He will whisper to 
your inmost heart those things which men dare not 
say to you." 

Finally, after having dwelt upon " that ennobling 
duty of great men and princes, to lead a better life 
than others do," the greac orator added : " And truly, 
our Sovereigns would justly anger the Living God 
if, surrounded by His benefits as they are, they should 
seek to taste those earthly joys which He expressly 
forbids them." ^ 

Then with what tact he strives to influence the 
young King by showing him the perspective of a 
glorious reign — his well-known ambition ! " For your 

1 Third Sermon for Palm Sunday. Floquet, Etudes, v. II. p. 201 ; 
cf. Gandar, Bossuet orateur, p. 397. M. I'Abbe Le Barcq points out 
some very pregnant passages in these Lenten Sermons: 

" It is not expedient for any man to have no superior. Those who 
owe no earthly obedience should be all the readier to submit to 
Heaven " {^loc, cit. p. 364). 



I02 Louise dc La Valli^re 

Majesty are reserved great things, illustrious things, 
beyond the ken of the Kings who have preceded you. 
Be faithful to God, then ; do not injure by your 
transgressions the designs of the future ; but lift the 
glory of your name and of France to such a height 
that there shall be nothing left for you to desire but 
the Eternal Felicity." 

All this is admirably said, and the course of our 
narrative will frequently recall it. But here are some 
still more astonishing words — prophetic words, indeed 
— which fell upon La Valli^re's ears on March 31, 
1662. 

Bossuet had been speaking of Magdalen's fall, and 
he went on to point out the remedy and the repara- 
tion : " Magdalen's heart is broken, her face is 
suiFused with shame, her mind is bent upon the true 
vision of her state, upon the profound realisation of 
her danger. She is so utterly wretched that she 
hurries to the Physician with all her heart in her eyes ; 
her sense of shame flings her humbly at His feet ; 
knowledge of her danger keeps her still afraid, even 
after He has spoken to her ; she hardly knows which 
to ponder most — her hope of future resistance to 
temptation, or the joy of having been so blissfully, 
so mercifully, forgiven." 

It is as if Bossuet already saw the weeping penitent 
in the young favourite from whom he sought to 
detach the King's heart, so plainly does he seem 
to have traced her path for her ! But before the 
Divine Word could take root, five swift years of 
pleasure were to pass, followed by seven long ones 
of grief and humiliation. 



CHAPTER V 

MARCH, 1662 DECEMBER, 1662 

LENT over, Court-life began again as usual. Louis 
had admired Bossuet's budding genius, and he 
felicitated the orator ; then he divided the 
apostolic advice into two parts. As man, he was 
indulgent for himself; as prince, severe for others. 
Guiche and Montalais, quite too intriguing, were 
exiled. 

We shall make as short work as possible of these 
side-issues ; but if we are to give a clear idea of what 
was going on in the maid-of-honour's apartments, we 
must present some of the adventures in the quarters 
of the Duchesse d'Orleans. Guiche would go there, 
disguised as a foreigner, as a fortune-teller, as anything 
you please. When he was exiled, he was anxious to 
see Madame again before he went — and he succeeded, 
thanks to Montalais. But he was very nearly caught 
by Monsieur, and had to hide " in a fireplace 
which closed with double doors." As ill-luck would 
have it, what did Monsieur do but begin to eat an 
orange, the peel of which he plainly proposed to throw 
into Guiche's hiding-place ! One of Madame's maids, 
accustomed to these extra-duties, adroitly exclaimed, 
" My prince, please don't throw away the peel — I love 
it ! " Monsieur gave it her, " and so the Count and 
Madame had a narrow escape." ^ But they were not 

^ LaPrincesse: His: tarn our: des Gaules, v. II. p. 184. We should 

103 



I04 Louise de La Valli^re 

quite out of the wood. Another maid-of-honour, 
D'Artigny, had found out their secret and told it 
to the Queen-mother, who in her turn instructed 
Monsieur. *' People told that Prince what they would 
have concealed from any other husband." Philippe 
took it quietly, and was satisfied with dismissing 
Montalais, who departed with a casket full of Guiche's 
letters.^ Most of these Madame had not read, which is 
scarcely surprising, for Guiche wrote four times a day. 

On April 29, 1662, the Gazette published the 
following note : 

" The Comte de Guiche has left here for Lorraine 
to command the King's troops, as Lieutenant-General, 
His Majesty having testified, by giving him this im- 
portant post, the esteem in which his person is held at 
Court. . ." A semi-official sheet in our own day 
could not be more impeccably correct. The Norman 
writer, Loret, got in a delicate hint in the Mwze 
historique : 

" Je ne sfay pas bien pourquoy 
On ne me I'a point fait entendre, 
Mais le temps nous poura I'aprendre." 

Having thus satisfied his conscience as to the be- 
haviour of his subjects, the King could again devote 
his attention to his own pleasures. On June 5, 1662, 
the celebrated " Carrousel " began — that carousal 
which has given its name to the square where it took 
place. It has been frequently said that Louis gave 
this magnificent entertainment for his mistress.^ There 
is no proof of this. Louis loved " big shows," and 
always took care to play a big part in them, In later 

not have quoted a word from these libels if we had not found the same 
story in Mme de La Fayette's most accurate book. The libel calls the 
girl CoUogon (Coetlogon) ; Mme de La Fayette calls her Montalais. 

1 The author oi La Princesse calls this girl Barbezieres, v. II. p, 172. 

^ M. Dreyss, apropos the Carrousel, speaks of the scandal of the 
Royal love-affair : Memoires de Louis XIV., v. I. Preface, p. 90. The 
affair was scarcely public property at all at that time. 



Louise de La Valli^re 105 

years, he desired to represent this kind of thing as 
part of a settled policy.^ But this one was distinctly 
nothing more than a Royal amusement. La Valliere 
appeared, but was in no way distinguished from the 
crowd. Indeed there are many indications that, at 
this time, the King's affections were divided. 

Louis had made a short stay at Saint-Germain — 
from May 7 to 15. On June 18, the day after the 
Carrousel ended, he returned there, resolved to finish 
an adventure which had been begun some months 
before. The great love of the Queen, the great 
passion of La Valliere, were no longer sufficient for 
this young man of twenty-four, who was as wise in 
serious affairs as if he had been for years upon the 
throne, but as susceptible to the advances of women 
as a boy just out of school. 

Madame de Soissons had not given up yet ! 
After the fiasco of the Spanish letter, she changed her 
tactics, and resolved to supply the King with a new 
charmer. One of the Queen's maids was then be- 
ginning to attract attention. She was " pretty enough 
to inspire genuine passion," and cold and self-controlled 
enough to sacrifice no benefits that might come from 
Royal favour, to such a thing as love. A man who 
was not her enemy has thus characterised her : 
" Though not a dazzling beauty, she had drawn away 
lovers from the celebrated Menneville." ^ Her name 
was Anne-Lucie de La Motte-Houdancourt. She 
must not be confused with Mile de La Motte-Argen- 
court — long-forgotten object of the Royal passion ! — 
nor with Mile de La Motte-Houdancourt (Fran^oise- 
Angelique), daughter of the Marechal, who in 1662 

> Dreyss, Memoir es de Louis XIV., v. II. p. 566. 

^ Memoires du Chevalier de Grammont, chap. V. Hamilton says 
that La Motte was maid to the Queen-mother — an error which would 
not signify if it was not one of a long series in connection with this 
young lady, 



io6 Louise de La Valli^re 

would not have been more than fourteen years old.^ 
Anne-Lucie became the tool of the Comtesse de 
Soissons, who " presented " her at Saint-Germain rather 
than at Paris, for at Paris the Duchesse de Navailles 
watched too closely over her unruly little troop. 
Mme de Navailles has often been represented as 
desperately virtuous, "a regular cross old duenna"; 
but she was really a woman of about thirty-five, very 
witty, as delightful to talk to as to look at^ — in 
short, a really good type, vigilant, and with a strong 
sense of duty. This vigilance it was hoped to foil at 
Saint-Germain. 

The Chevalier de Grammont — a famous personage, 
as vicious as he was attractive, and as temerarious as he 
was vicious — had the audacity to interfere in this affair. 
As we have seen in the cases of Guiche and Brienne, 
it was sufficient at that time for the King to have 
spoken more than once to any young lady for all 
other persons to keep their distance. Admirers very 
humbly withdrew all claims of every kind, and offered 
thenceforth merely their respects. Grammont, who 
"cherished a reputation for singularity," did the exact 
reverse. He had never thought of La Motte, but 
directly she was honoured with his Sovereign's atten- 
tion, he began to consider her worthy of his own. 
This was inconvenient, and the lady denounced him — 
so he did not take long to learn that " if love makes 
all equal, rivalry does not." Louis made no bones 

^ It would be impossible to enumerate the confusions between La 
Motte-Argencourt and La Motte-Houdancourt. We shall merely 
mention two which are of some importance on account of the great 
authority of the authors : M. Cheruel, in Note III. on the Memoires 
de Saint-Simon, v. V. p. 457, 1865 edition; M. de Monmerque, 
Lettres de Sevigne, Hacliette edition, 1872, v. II. p. 48. The anno- 
tator ought to have seen that, according to his own calculation, his 
La Motte-Houdancourt could not have been more than eleven in 1662 ! 

^ The Portrait-Gallery at the Versailles Museum has a portrait of 
the Duchesse de Navailles copied from a family picture. E. Soulie, 
Notice dumusee de Versailles^ v. III. p. 166. No. 3537. 



Louise de La Valli^re 107 

about it : he simply exiled his rival. ^ Left master of 
the field, he made no bones about that either — he 
climbed roofs, he ran along the leads by the beauty's 
chamber, he spoke to her through a defective partition. 
It was highly romantic. The new Castle of Saint- 
Germain, a charming if not exactly a solid construction, 
"lent itself admirably to these amorous adventures. 
La Valliere was in jealous despair ; but the King, 
egged on by La Motte's resistance, ran after her un- 
ceasingly." And an extremely silly young man he 
proved himself. 

Mme de Navailles had frequently tried to impress 
upon all who happened to be concerned that they 
must not trespass upon her special domain. Louis 
sometimes felicitated her on her fine fighting-qualities, 
sometimes bluntly demanded a surrender. The 
Duchess, in dire perplexity, took advantage of a visit 
to Paris with the Queen-mother ^ to consult a casuist, 
M. Joly. That ecclesiastic advised her to do her duty 
and resist the King, even if it should bring her into 
disgrace. The counsel was unhesitatingly given, and 
as unhesitatingly followed. Things were getting 
serious. The good lady was hardly back before she 
was informed that men, in no way resembling thieves, 
had been seen running along the roofs near the maids- 
of-honours' little rooms. In the morning she had 
the doors walled up and the windows barred. Solid 
bars, too ; it took no less than thirty or forty suisses to 
put them up. There was no delay ; they were up that 
very day, and the lady slept in peace. But when she 

* Memoires du Chevalier de Grammont, chap. v. Grammont arrived 
in England in June, 1662. See chap. vi. of the Memoires. His attempt 
then had evidently been prior to the stay at Saint Germain. 

* On August 15, Anne of Austria went to pass the Feast-Days at 
Val-de-Grace, at the Grandes Carmelites {Gaz: de France, 1662). 
M. Joly was cure of St. Nicolas-des-Champs, so Mme de Navailles 
could easily consult him. 



io8 Louise de La Valli^fc 

woke, lo and behold ! all the bars were lying in the 
courtyard. The sensation was enormous — people 
talked of nothing else all day. Louis was more 
amazed than any one else at the extraordinary accident. 
At dinner he made desperate fun of Mme de Navailles : 
" It must be ghosts, for the door was shut, and your 
guards saw no one come in." She was speechless : 
there was nothing to say. . . And it was so that the 
future Great King played the seducer, the scamp, the 
libertine a la Roquelaure school ! 

But the game was nearly up. La Motte, half- 
yielding, made but one condition — the dismissal of 
La Valli^re. She actually had the hardihood to 
insist, to throw a pair of earrings in the King's face, 
exclaiming, " I don't care for you or your earrings, 
if you won't give up La ValUere. . ." But even those 
who most disapproved of the King's conduct could 
not but prefer the mistress to intriguing Houdancourt. 
The Queen-mother knew that the latter's pathetic 
epistles were dictated by two of Mme de Soissons' 
creatures, and that one " was to be written to demand 
the dismissal of La Valliere." She told her son just 
what it would say, and " proved to him thus that he 
was simply the dupe of the Comtesse de Soissons." 
Of all affronts, the King most hated that kind. 
In the evening, when the Countess delivered the 
supposed La Motte letter, Louis found that it said 
exactly what he had been told it would say. Some- 
what ashamed of himself, he burnt the precious 
missive, and from that moment La Motte ceased 
to exist for him. The girl, on her side, facing her 
misadventure boldly enough, affected the airs of a 
vestal virgin to all other men — a vestal virgin, however, 
on the look-out for a husband, for the inconsolable 
poor thing ended by marrying the Marquis de La 
Vieuville, 



Louise de La Valli^re 109 

Anne of Austria was not the only person who was 
observant of Louis. Another counsellor now spoke — 
and one who did so with unrivalled authority. This 
was the Royal Physician, Vallot, who diagnosed in 
his patient, *' dull, sick headaches, with an inclination 
to dizziness ; some heart-trouble, weakness, and de- 
pression, . ," He considered that the King hunted 
too much. But that was only one cause ; there was 
another : " He did not have all the sleep he needed." 
His Majesty unwillingly consented to " sleep a little 
more than he had been wont to do " ; he also allowed 
himself to be nursed a little, drugged, purged, but 
with such a delicious dose, invented expressly for 
him — peony-heads, red roses, crushed pearls, spirit of 
vitriol ! — that he quite enjoyed taking it.^ But 
probably the slight rest did him more good than 
even the specially-invented drug. 

The ladies' plot, which had developed itself 
between June 19 and the end of August, 1662, was 
followed by a last skirmish, a forlorn hope. Montalais, 
though banished from Court, was not yet beaten. 
She wrote from the depths of her convent to La 
Valliere " two long letters, telling her what she 
ought to do, and what she ought to say to the King." ^ 
Louise made no mysteries this time. She brought the 
letters to Louis, and he wrote instantly to an aunt of 
his, who happened to be Abbess at Fontevrault : 

' Jottrtial de la sanU du rot, p. 80 . 

^ Hist: de Madame Henriette, p. 109. Madame de La Fayette, as 
usual, is the authority for the details of this little history. Compare 
her account with Mme de Motteville's, for instance : " They say that 
Mile de La Valliere's fate was decided largely by the fact that Mile de 
La Motte hesitated so long and seemed likely to resist to the end ; 
while La Valliere, having ceased to struggle, conquered, so to speak, 
by her defencelessness " (v. V. p. 147). La VaUiere had long since 
yielded to a genuine passion, while Mile de La Motte was merely 
playing the coquette. 



110 Louise dc La Valli^re 

" Saint-Germain-en-Laye, 

"August 22, 1662. 

" My Aunt, 

" Having been obliged, for good reasons, to 
remove the demoiselle de Montalais from the convent 
of the English nuns in the Faubourg Saint-Marcel, 
and to banish her from Paris, I have thought it well 
to send her to your House. I shall be glad if you 
will receive her there, and if you will further give 
orders that she be closely observed, and that she have 
no communication, either oral or written, with any one 
whatever outside the convent gates." ^ 

This Abbess was Jeanne-Baptiste, daughter of Henri 
IV. and Charlotte des Essarts, a legitimated Princess 
of France. Montalais was brought to Fontevrault 
by a Police-officer, was closely confined, and did 
not leave her quasi-prison until the end of November. 

Louis, that giddy husband but austere sovereign, 
had scarcely disposed of his sister-in-law Henrietta, 
Guiche, and their supernumeraries, before he was 
obliged to intervene between the old Duke of 
Lorraine and two young ladies who had been either 
too trusting or too thoughtless. One, Mile de Saint- 
Remi, who was a kind of sister of Louise de La 
Valliere, was also a kind of sister-in-law of the King. 

It will be remembered that Saint-Remi, Louise's step- 
father, had a daughter by his first marriage, and 
that she, still at the Luxembourg, was still, there- 
fore, the companion of the Princesses of Orleans. 
This little group was unchangingly romantic. Young 
Charles of Lorraine had awaked the girlish passions 
of the young Princesses, and now his old uncle, Duke 
Charles, was making trouble among the Princesses' 

' CEuvres de Louis XIV., v. p. 90. On November 20, 1662, Louis 
sent the order for Montalais' release {ibid. p. 103). 



Louise de La Valli^re 1 1 1 

dependents, and caricaturing Louis' gallantries in a 
way which was highly displeasing to that haughty 
Prince. 

The old man, who had been a widower and had 
then married morganatically, got weary of his femme de 
conscience^ and came to Paris, ostensibly on political 
affairs, but really " on the spree." But on February 6, 
1662, he had found himself obliged — and very cleverly 
trapped he had been ! — to sign the Treaty of 
Montmartre, which despoiled him of his States. This 
was a terrible blow to the Lorraine forces, but the 
old Duke was a philosopher ; he let people talk, and 
interested himself in the rounding-oif of an adventure 
— begun in 1661 — with Marianne Pajot, the daughter 
of Mile de Montpensier's apothecary. This he had 
inaugurated on the very day after he had asked 
for that arrogant Princess's hand for his nephew.^ 
No one had dreamed of taking the affair seriously. 
But the amazing old man did actually make up his 
mind to marry his bien-aimee. He even obtained the 
approval of his brother, Duke Francis ; and things 
v/ent so far that, in the afternoon of April 18, 1662, 
there assembled in the house of sieur Tistonnet, maistre 
apothicaire^ Rue Saint-Honore, to sign the contract, 
" the very high, excellent, and most serene Duke 
Charles, by the Grace of God Duke of Lorraine ; 
Francis, his only brother, etcetera ; and the very noble 
persons, Claude Pajot and Elizabeth Souart, his wife, 

^ Segrais, in his Memoires, p. 88, 1723 edition (Amsterdam), says that 
Mademoiselle had refused the Prince of Lorraine " because the salt-works 
were not so valuable as she had imagined." Upon which, M. Cheruel 
{Memoires de Mile de Montpensier, v. III. p. 522, note) exclaims that 
Segrais is not trustworthy. It is Mademoiselle, on the contrary, who 
is not. Here is an extract from the Memoires de Beauvmi, p. 193 : 
" The Duke . . . showing himself to be extremely annoyed by 
Mademoiselle's hesitation, said that she was too eager about certain 
securities upon which she had set her heart, and that she wanted 
him to resign his States quite as much as to ascertain the value of the 
revenues of Lorraine and Bar." 



112 Louise "dc La Valli^re 

stipulating for Mile Marianne-Fran(^oisej their daughter." 
After having declared that he had at first dedicated 
himself to the " tranquillity of celibacy," the Duke 
added that " by the unforeseen design of that Providence 
which reserves to itself the right of governing the 
hearts and regulating the conduct of princes, he now 
found himself called to make a second marriage, which 
seemed quite imperative to his conscience, if he was to 
follow the directing voice." And that was why he 
had decided that " the best method was to choose a 
wife in whom modesty and discretion took the place 
of those more glittering ai^d showy qualities which 
minister rather to the ambition of the man than to 
the chaste and conjugal love of the husband." One 
wonders if Louis perceived the allusion — a tolerably 
distinct one ! 

The notary continued reading the deed. " For 
these reasons — and having proved that illustrious birth 
is not invariably conducive to conjugal bliss, especially 
when the alliance has been a political one, entered 
into for purely human interests, with no thought of 
that affection which, in this mysterious relationship, is 
the bond of hearts as well as of persons — and con- 
sidering the admirable, the noble qualities of Mile 
Marie-Anne-Fran^oise Pajot, which were accompanied 
by a rare virtue, a solid piety," and so forth. . . 
Followed the recital of the contract — which was 
signed. The Dowager-Duchess of Orleans soon heard 
of this delightful project. The King, informed by 
her, had the future Duchess shut up at For-l'Eveque. 
Mile de Montpensier, not displeased by her step- 
mother's vexation, dismissed the apothecary, " though 
he was a very good servant." ^ " Amongst ordinary 

' Memoires de Beauvau, pp. 221-227. Saint-Simon, Meinoires, 
Boislisle edition, v. III. p. 32. Marianne Pajot became Marquise de 
Lassay. See Recueil de differentes choses, v. I. p. 5. 



Louise de La Valli^re 113 

people," says the Princess, " the father of a mother-in- 
law would not marry the servant of his daughter-in- 
law, if the daughter-in-law had any voice in the matter. 
It would be an affront. I did my duty." And she 
recorded the fact in her memoirs, so that posterity 
might not be ignorant of it — which '* ordinary people " 
would perhaps have thought unnecessary. 

Much piqued at this dismissal, the Duke fussed and 
fumed, and tried to get Marianne back ; but the King 
kept her close — and the Duke resigned himself. A 
needy poor devil, he was lodging in a wretched hut 
with the gardener of the Luxembourg.^ He had his 
meals with his sister at the Orleans Palace, and she 
lectured him indefatigably. Our incorrigible listened, 
and while he did so, admired Catherine de Saint-Remi, 
the daughter of La Valliere's step-father. Words 
soon succeeded to admiring glances. He asked for 
meetings — he obtained them. The rendezvous was 
at a demoiselle La Haye's, wife of Mme d'Orleans' 
apothecary : the Duke had evidently dedicated himself 
to apothecaries. After a short time this eminently 
moral old gentleman made a formal proposal. Saint- 
Remi " was foolish enough to give his consent, for- 
getting what had just happened, and forgetting, too, 
the light-hearted nature of the Ducal passions." But 
naturally the old Marquis, step-father of the King's 
mistress, was prepared for the extraordinary ! The 
news was even announced in the Gazettes. . . Alas, 
it was a short-lived dream. Madame-Dowager un- 
hesitatingly shut up the apothecary's wife and the 
Saint-Remi young lady together in one room. The 
redoubtable Charles was turned out of the Luxembourg. 
He tried to force the gates, was repulsed with a 

* Relation des ambassadeursvenitiens, file 29, folio 147, Bibliotheque 
nationale : " Una piccola casetta net giardino del Luxemburgo ove 
habitava V hortolano del luoco." 

8 



114 Louise de La Valli^re 

halberd, and made up his mind to return to Lorraine. 
He was scarcely home before — irrevocably bent on 
matrimony — he had exchanged vows with a Canoness 
and with a daughter of La Haye the apothecary, to 
say nothing of a conditional confirmation of his anterior 
union with the Princesse de Cantecroix. 

When the sexagenarian charmer was safely gone, 
Mile de Saint-Remi was restored to her virgin liberty. 
For the epilogue, we turn once more to La Grande 
Mademoiselle : " Saint-Remi was much blamed for 
not having got her married (his daughter), and also 
for not disobeying Madame altogether. His post was 
not good enough to make up for sacrificing his 
daughter's chance of a semi-royal marriage ; but I 
think her step-mother, who did not love her, prevented 
him." This step-mother is Louise de La Valliere's 
mother. As for the girl, " she shortly afterwards 
married a gentleman called Hautefeuille. People said 
she was almost desperate." ^ The last remark is signi- 
ficant, for Mademoiselle was notoriously not naive. 
Therefore it is but just to rectify her assertion. It 
was not till two years later that Catherine de Saint- 
Remi married — on April 26, 1665 — Germain Texier 
d' Hautefeuille, Baron of Malicorne, eighteen years her 
senior. 

Such was the fate of La Valliere's friend, and 
she had stayed at home. We can therefore estimate 
the kind of succour that Louise might expect from 
her amazing family. Weak, isolated, neglected, she 
yielded to her fate — which was all the more inevitable 
because Louis, disillusioned of coquetry by Mile de 
La Motte-Houdancourt, had humbly implored her 

1 Texier d'Hautefeuille, son of a Councillor of the Parliament, was 
the grandson of Marie Perrot, step-sister of Jean de Chaulnes, Lord 
of Bures. About 1689, he was married again to Franfoise de Medavy 
de Grancey (La Chesnaye des Bois, Diet: de la noblesse v. xviii. p. 885). 



Louise de La Valli^re 115 

forgiveness. La Valliere was angry at first, and, it 
was said, treated the King " like a Basque." This 
was unexpected, and invested her with fresh attractions. 
She forgave at last, " and for a long time," says a 
contemporary, " Louise lived a quiet life." ^ We shall 
see what " a long time " means. 

Actually there was no trace of an intrigue for a 
whole month ! Just then the King was getting fonder 
and fonder of Versailles. He wanted to have a 
portrait of Louise, painted by Nocret, to hang there,^ 
and he frequently brought her out. While the canvas 
was growing into beauty, they frolicked like holiday- 
children. " The King goes often to Versailles," wrote 
malicious Guy-Patin, " and people say that it isn't 
only the beauties of the place which take him there." 
Louis still kept his secret closely. To fend off gossips 
and bores, he had arranged that no one should follow 
him on these little expeditions unless he had been 
accorded the privilege of wearing the Blue Cloak. 
This was a cloak of blue watered-silk, trimmed with 
gold and silver embroidery, like one which the King 
often wore.^ Thanks to this quasi-uniform, it was 
easy to establish a useful alibis to complicate or to 
explain situations, as the case might be. The idea may 
well have originated in some romantic tale of the 
period. 

When Louis could not go to see his mistress, he 
wrote to her — sometimes in prose, sometimes in verse. 
Then, as this took up a great deal of his time, he 
called in the aid of discreet and friendly pens. 

^ Mme DE La Fayette. This passage proves that that part of the 
Histoire was put together before 1667. 

^ The portrait cost 220 livres. See Floquet, Bossuet, precepteur 
du Dauphin, p. 460, 

^ Memoires de Roger de Rabutin, v. II. p. 133. Lalanne edition. 
Saint-Simon says that this cloak was invented in the early days of La 
Valliere's favour (Memoires de Dangeau, v. I. p. 393, note). 



ii6 Louise de La Valli^re 

Dangeau has been hinted at, besides a less illus- 
trious individual. Louise, only too well versed in 
gallant lore, at first answered as best she could ; 
then, embarrassed, overwhelmed, is said to have called 
in Dangeau also.-^ The wits of the time, and other 
writers far less refined, willingly constituted themselves 
the secretaries of the two lovers. The authentic 
documents have perished,^ and we do not regret it. 
In love-affairs like this, spontaneous, disinterested, 
utterly uncalculating, the lovers never say anything 
of importance, and that is far better than arguments 
and sophistry. But we may quote some verses, 
graceful and facile enough : 

" Qui les s^aura, mes secrettes amours ? 
Je me ris des soup9ons, je me ris des discours. 

Quoique Ton parle et que Ton cause, 
Nul ne s^aura mes secrettes amours, 

Que celle qui les cause." 

And the no less attractive reply : 

" Sire le Roi, qui commandez en France, 
Et qui rdglez la Cour, 
Faites des lois centre la m^disance 

En faveur de I'amour, 
Les m^disans gatent tout le mystere ; 
C'est 1^ votre affaire 

A vous 
C'est 1^ votre affaire." 

Then there follow some rather poor lines — poor 
enough to have come from a Royal pen ! Louis is 
said to have written them on a Two of Diamonds. 
La Valliere duly replied : 

^ According to Fontenelle, Aloges des academiciens, it was Madame 
whom Dangeau thus assisted ; but this is improbable. The intrigue 
between Louis and Henrietta was too short-lived. 

^ We do not notice here the apocryphal notes in tlie Hist: amour: 
des Gaiiles. M. I'Abbe DucLos has diligently sought for a note from 
Louis XIV. to his mistress, beginning with these words : Palsambleu, 
mademoiselle. He is angry with the possessor of this precious auto- 
graph because it has not been given to history. Let him keep it, 
palsambleu I let him keep it ! 



Louise de La Valli^re 117 

" Pour m'^crire avec plus de douceur 

II fallait choisir un deux de coeur : 
Les carreaux ne sont faits, il me semble, 
Que (pour servir Jupiter en courroux; 
Mais deux coeurs, qui sont unis ensemble, 
Ne peuvent rien annoncer que de doux." ' 

Towards the end of October, Louise fell ill. It was 
nothing serious, but it interrupted the gaieties. The 
topical songster, Loret, thought this worth chronicling 

in the Gazette rimee : 

" La Cour est en bonne sante, 
Je n'y S9ache aucun alite, 
Sinon I'aimable demoiselle 
Que de La Valliere on apelle, 
De Madame, fille d'honneur, 
Et qui poss^de le bon heur 
D'infiniment charmer et plaire 
Par son merite extr'ordinaire. 
Mais pour elle on fait tant de voeux 
Qu'assurement croire je veux 
Que le Ciel prendra pitie d'elle, 
Et que les yeux de cette Belle, 
Ses graces, ses chastes atrais, 
Rebrilleront mieux que jamais." 

Louise must have felt slightly confused by this 
eulogy of her " chastes atrais T For the rest, she 
was soon — with the beginning of November, indeed — 
rehearsing a shepherdess's part in the new ballet. 

But now came a doleful reminder of the realities 
of life. On November 18, 1662, the Queen had 
given birth to a Princess, Anne-Elizabeth. Couriers 
were sent to all the Courts of Europe with the joyful 
tidings, and all the Courts sent special ambassadors 
to carry their felicitations. But the earliest arrival — 
he of Spain — found only a little coffin. Anne-Elizabeth 
had died on December 30. It was the first experience 
Louis had had of a personal loss ; and before the 

1 Nouveaii Slide de Louis XIV., v. IV. pp. 19, 16; Paris, 1793. 
None of the pieces published in this, or in any subsequent collection, 
has been the subject of really critical examination. The couplets 
Sire le Roy are given as " yi feigned letter from the King of Spain to 
his daughter." They were composed as an allusion to the " feigned letter." 



1 1 8 Louise de La Valli^re 

spectacle of the tiny creature thus caught away as 
soon as given, he was profoundly moved. His 
anguish was the more remarkable because he had 
hitherto been suspected of some want of feeling/ 
After this sudden sorrow, the King and Queen retired 
to Saint-Cloud, where Monsieur lived. This meant 
that they were under the roof of Madame, among 
whose maids-of-honour was still Louise de La Valliere. 
How the contemporary libels, the exaggerative Gazettes.^ 
would have prized any authentic account of what the 
King and La Valliere said to one another during this 
mournful interval, and how such accounts would 
surprise the present writer if they did not relate 
that tender-hearted Louise shed many tears over the 
child of Marie-Therese ! 

So ended the year 1662. If the girl had pondered 
all the happenings since her arrival at Court, she 
would perhaps have found that they were more 
grievous than delightful ; but she was at an age 
when a thousand hours of vexation, anxiety, jealousy, 
remorse, are blotted out of the memory, as if they 
had never been and could never be again, when 
once a happy day has dawned. 

* Mme DE MoTTEviLLE, V. IV. p. 325. But see especially the 
Memoire by Colbert, inserted in the Appendix, v. VI. p. 446, of the 
Recueil published by Monsieur Clement. The editor has put a note 
of interrogation after the name of "Madame." There is no reason for 
this. The allusion is to the little Madame Anne-Elizabeth. 



CHAPTER VI 

JANUARY, 1663 — OCTOBER, 1663 

LESS than a week after the funeral of the little 
Princess, the claims of royal life, which pre- 
clude long indulgence in grief, revived the 
festivities and gay doings. On January 8, 1663, 
the ballet of the Les was given at the Palais-Royal. 
As usual, the spectators were provided with a rhymed 
libretto by Benserade, filled with allusions. 

The King entered as a shepherd, and Benserade 
said : 

" Void la gJoire et I'honneur du hameau, 

"Et quoiqu'il soit dans I'age ou nous sentons 
Pour le plaisir une attache si forte, 
Ne croyez pas que son plaisir I'emporte ; 
II en revient toujours h ses moutons. 

" A son labeur il passe tout d'un coup. 
II n'ira pas dormir sur la fougere 
Ni s'oublier aupres d'une bergere 
Jusques au point d'en oublier le loup." 

Flattery was never more akin to truth. For eighteen 
months Louis, deeply as he loved La Valliere, had 
been conscious of an even greater love for his own 
authority and for the honour of France — regarding 
himself, indeed, almost as the incarnation of his coun- 
try. These couplets of Benserade's touched, in their 
airy way, upon everything that mattered — upon Spain's 
having yielded precedence upon the restoration of 
Dunkirk, upon the re-establishment of order in finan- 

119 



I20 Louise de La Valli^rc 

cial affairs, and upon the admirably drawn-up military 
lists. The nonchalant poet admired the King's aptitude 
for work. Colbert, that indefatigable toiler, was no 
less astonished at seeing his Sovereign come away from 
the most serious Cabinet Councils, quite fresh, active, 
and keen for amusement. All contemporaries, both 
friends and enemies, have recognised in Louis XIV. 
the remarkable faculty, peculiar to very gifted men, of 
being able to concentrate or relax their attention at 
will, of keeping up their strength merely by varying 
its direction ; indeed, Louis' very distractions were 
strenuous. 

In 1662, he made La Grande Mademoiselle quite ill 
with fatigue by insisting upon her dancing in the ballet 
of Hercule. " As for the King," wrote the Venetian 
Ambassador, " he is so strong and vigorous that both 
before and after a ball he goes to the riding-school, or 
else exercises with the lance, or at thtjeu de tetey 

In the ballet of Les z^^rts. Mile de La Valliere played 
a Shepherdess and an Amazon. Benserade expressed 
himself again with much tact : 

" Non, sans doute, il n'est pas de bergere plus belle 
Pour elle cependant qui s'ose declarer? 
La presse n'est pas grande a soupirer pour elle 
Quoiqu'elle soit si propre a faire soupirer. 

" Elle a dans ses beaux yeux une douce langueur, 
Et bien qu'en apparence aucun n'en soit la cause, 
Pour peu qu'il fut permis de fouiller dans son coeur 
On ne laisserait pas d'y trouver quelque chose. 

" Mais pourquoi la-dessus s'6tendre da vantage ? 
Suffit qu'on ne sauroit en dire trop de bien ; 
Et je ne pense pas que dans tout le village 

II se rencontre un coeur mieux plac6 que le sien." 

Past-master in the art of saying nothing, yet im- 
plying everything, Benserade pleased the Court with 
these happy allusions, while taking care not to displease 
the King, who surrounded his love with so much 
mystery. 



Louise de La Valli^rc 121 

Loret also embalmed her in the following verse : 

" L'agr6able de La Valliere 
Qui d'une excellente maniere, 
Et d'un air plus divin qu' humain 
Dansa, la houlette a la main ; 
Puis apres changeant la cadence, 
En amazone avec la lance, 
Ayant le port et la fierte 
D'une Belle de quality." 

Louise de La Valliere occupied in reality the most 
mediocre position, although she was the object of 
so many ovations, and of so much jealousy and 
intrigue. She no longer rendered the ordinary 
duties of her position to Madame, but she still 
remained one of her maids. She had one little room 
in the garrets of the Castle, and, except for a few 
jewels and fripperies, she had no love- tokens from 
the King. At this time Louis XIV., whose poverty- 
stricken days were only just over, was anything but 
lavish ; and besides, our proud and delicate-minded 
Louise asked only love for love. She did not even 
make a virtue of her discretion. This girl of seven- 
teen, already tortured by remorse, and, when remorse 
had passed, preyed upon by anxiety — this favourite, 
less favoured than the meanest of beggars, lived for 
two years a life so narrow and constrained that the 
lowest chambermaid would have refused to submit to it. 
The King could not doubt the love of a mistress 
who asked for nothing. One day, during a review, 
he saw her smiling pleasantly at a young cadet, who 
bowed to her as if they were old acquaintances. The 
same evening her tyrannical lover asked Louise, in a 
severe tone, who the young man was. Louise got con- 
fused, and finally replied that he was her brother. The 
King, with his usual caution, made inquiries, and found 
that Louise was as truthful as she was disinterested.^ 

* Les loisirs d'un ministre, ou Essais dans le gout de ceux de 



122 Louise de La Valli^re 

Louise's eldest brother, Jean-Frangois de La Baume 
Le Blanc, was, after his father's death, sent to the 
College at Navarre, where we see him in 1665 figur- 
ing in a representation of the life of Saint Julian. 
Although amongst these young actors we find the 
names of Bretoncelle and D'Humieres, it would be 
rash to conclude from that that it was in such ex- 
clusive society that Laurent's son made his social 
debut, for we also find there such middle-class 
patronymics as Menardeau and Beauvais. Jean- 
Francois was poor, and poverty is as much of a class- 
distinction amongst children at school as it is later in 
the world. Neither can one regard a part in a Latin 
piece at College, nor an echo in the Gazette de Loiret^ 
precisely as the clarion-call of Fame ! 

In 1659, the youth was made Lieutenant to 
the King at Amboise, a small appointment, worth 
only about 600 livres a year. He did not receive 
Foucquet when he was brought back to Paris from 
imprisonment at Nantes. It seems possible, then, 
that what d'Argenson says may be true : that the 
young soldier, who had made his first campaign as 
a cadet of the King's Household, was still, in 1663, 
personally quite unknown to Louis. It was only then 
that he received the rank of Cornet in the Dauphin's 
Company of Light Horse, a corps recruited with 
exceptional care. 

The young King increased the strength of his 
Army upon any and every pretext. He organised 
his son's Military Household, and included in it a 
company of Light Horse " magnificently recruited, 
equipped, and mounted," which was composed of three 
hundred and fifteen officers, re-embodied after the 

Montaigne, written in 1736, v. II. p. 195. This anecdote is disputed 
by MM. Lemoine and Lichtenberger, De La VallUre a Montesfan^ 
p. 50- 



Louise dc La Valli^re 123 

Pyrenees Treaty. In reality, he was laying the 
foundation of an Army-Corps. The standard showed 
three dolphins playing in a rough sea. The motto 
would lead one to think that the Academy of 
Inscriptions already existed : it was Pericula Indus. 
The King was honorary Captain ; the Lieutenant 
(still more honorary !) was the Dauphin, a child of 
two. Lemoine assures us that La Valliere, as a 
Cornet, was the actual commander of this company 
of veterans. This is unlikely ; so is the precocious 
talent with which some credit the young man — of 
obtaining a bonus for himself upon the pay of his 
inferiors ! Besides, Louis XIV. had given him, since 
January 19, 1663, a pension of four thousand livres. 

The first months of 1663 passed without new 
intrigues, but they were certainly not devoid of trials. 
On May 28, Louis was violently attacked with 
measles. It was a very severe illness. At one time 
they feared for his life ; and he, looking death in 
the face, made all his arrangements to that end. But 
when the fever fastened upon him, he babbled in- 
cessantly of his dear Louise. He did not wish to 
see her, though, " for fear of putting her in danger."^ 
The invalid's youth and strength brought him quickly 
through this illness. Then came a new efflorescence 
of love. While Louis was in danger of death, he 
had probably felt anxious as to the fate of his mistress. 
At any rate, he now attempted to give her a better 
standing by consolidating her brother's fortune. This 

' Le Palais-Royal, in the collection called LHistoirc amotireuse des 
Gaules, v. II. p. 45. Chaldean texts translated into Arabic, and then 
from Arabic into Greek, and then from Greek into French, could not con- 
tain more mistakes than these libels, copied and recopied as they were by 
ignorant pens. The passage quoted by us appears thus : " He 
dreamt continually of his mistress, who did not wish to see him for 
fear of putting him in danger. When he was quite out of danger, 
M. de Saint-Aignan went to fetch her." Evidently, the right reading 
must be " whom he would not see. . ," 



124 Louise de La Valliere 

was achieved by a very rich marriage with a young 
Breton heiress, Gabrielle Gle de la Cotardais (June 12, 
1663), the orphan and only daughter of Jean Gle de la 
Cotardais and Marie de Montigny. She was of the 
Breton nobility on both sides, heiress to 40,000 livres 
a year^C' useful even for a prince "), had been courted, 
or rather disputed about, for four years, for Mazarin 
himself had made a note of her for one of his "coml>ina- 
zione " ! But fate had reserved her for Jean-Francois, 
who for six months (January to June, 1663), paid 
court to her " with all respect and courtesy, most 
assiduously." The contract, very prudently drawn up, 
was signed on June 1 1 by the King, which is not 
surprising, by the Queen, which z'j, by the Queen- 
mother, by Monsieur and Madame, by the Prince de 
Conde, the Due d'Enghien, and by a hand which 
traced two shapeless capitals, an L. and a D., a baby- 
hand, no other than the Dauphin's, who was then 
eighteen months old, and thus bore witness to 
his satisfaction with the good services of the Cornet 
of his company ! ^ Sixty lords and ladies of the 
highest importance also testified to their esteem for 
the favourite's brother. The select set was followed 
by a dense crowd, hurrying to the marriage-ceremony, 
which was celebrated in the Church of the Assump- 
tion, by Monseigneur the Bishop of Laon. 

This public mark of favour re-awakened the 
rancour of the Comtesse de Soissons, the Comtesse 
de Vardes, and their husbands, who decided to tell 
the Queen herself all that was going on at the Palais- 
Royal. 

It would appear incredible, but is nevertheless true, 
that though more than two years had gone by, Marie- 

' This is told in full in the Gazette de Loret. M. Lemoine has given 
us some details. M. Le Brun points out that the document was preserved 
among M. Delapalme's papers. 



Louise de La Valli^re 125 

Ther^se did not yet exactly know who was the object 
of the King's passion, and it is impossible to think 
that it was an affected ignorance. The Queen was 
incapable of such calculation. Neither was it stupidity, 
as some believe. When the King's affection for her 
began to wane, she was perfectly aware of it. She 
was Spanish and jealous, but Spanish with the pride 
of race, and jealous as a true Queen may be. Her 
frank, honest mind detested espionage, the gossip of 
Court-life, and the tattle of servants. Therefore her 
suspicions nearly always led her astray, sometimes 
falling upon Madame, sometimes upon La Motte- 
Houdancourt. " It was pitiable to see what the Queen 
was imagining ; one laughed about it with the King." 
And who laughed ? who but Mademoiselle de Mont- 
pensier, a person utterly inferior to the noble woman 
at whom she jeered. 

On the other hand, Marie-Therese's true friends 
(it would not have been necessary to enlarge the 
Louvre to put them up !) refused to worry her with 
useless revelations. A conspiracy of silence was 
entered into by Anne of Austria, the faithful Modena, 
the reserved and austere Mme de Navailles, and the 
kindly and intelligent Mme de Motteville. 

One evening the latter, returning from her little 
domain in Normandy, and somewhat afraid of having 
lost the thread of events at Court, was destined to be 
sufficiently astonished. She was by the Queen's bed- 
side, and the Queen had just been confined of the 
little Madame Anne-Elizabeth, so it must have been 
about the end of November, 1662. Suddenly Marie- 
Th^rese signed to her with a look, and pointed out 
Mile de La Valliere. (It denotes the peculiar dis- 
comfort of the Royal apartments that Louise should 
have had to pass through this room on her way to 
sup with the Comtesse de Soissons, with whom she 



126 Louise de La Valli^re 

had established some real or pretended friendship.) 
" Esta don'zella^'' said the Queen in Spanish, " con las 
arracadas de diamante es esta que el Re quiere. (" That 
girl with the diamond earrings is the one the King 
loves.") ^ Her companion — true Norman that she 
was ! — though utterly taken aback, replied in an 
equivocal manner, saying neither yes nor no, but 
" that all husbands, without ceasing to love their 
wives, were generally unfaithful in this way, or made 
pretence of being so, as it was quite the fashion nowa- 
days." Marie-Therese did not reply, and Mme de 
Motteville could gather nothing from her silence. 
She was not, however, long in relating the whole 
occurrence to Queen Anne, who showed herself, as 
always, the most prudent and tender of mothers. 

It is a pleasure, in writing this history, so romantic 
in form yet so veracious even in its smallest details, to 
speak of the kindness of Anne of Austria and her 
unflagging care for her daughter-in-law's ease of mind. 
On the last day of the Carnival of 1663, the King had 
publicly refused to take the Queen to the masked 
ball, " preferring to accompany La Valli^re." Marie- 
Therese, still ignorant of the real reason, was so 
mortified that her mother-in-law promised to take her 
to the ball. Anne spent the morning of the day 
chosen for this great festivity at the Grandes- 
Carmelites, the convent in the Rue d'Enfer, which 
we have so often mentioned, and which will be the 
scene of our closing chapters. She spent the whole 
day quietly there. In the evening, suddenly remem- 
bering her promise, she threw over her dress a Spanish 
cloak of black taffeta and went to fetch the Queen 

' Quiere is usually translated as aime ; but this may here be giving 
the word too much significance. It could also be translated as 
recherche^ and such is the meaning that Marie-Therese probably 
attached to it. Otherwise we could not understand one or two 
passages later in the Memoires de Madame de Motteville. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 127 

from Mme de Motteville's room in the Palais-Royal. 
Following her was a "beautiful group of masks, 
dressed in antique fashion." When the time came, 
they drove to the Palace of Madame and Monsieur, 
who were giving the ball. Everything went well ; but 
they had forgotten certain bigoted folk who had much 
to say on the topic. It is said that even Mme 
Scarron, who had in 1660 so much admired the 
happiness of Marie-Therese (and who was a widow 
now, living on a pension from the Queen-mother), 
declared that she couldn't conceive "how an honest 
woman could wear a mask." Anne of Austria, humili- 
ated by the censure, confessed that " her affection for 
the Queen had been too powerful on this occasion." 
But if Marie-Therese occasionally amused herself — who 
can blame her? She wept often enough — "so often 
that Mme de Navailles was so courageous as to 
beg the King to have pity upon her." The King, 
accustomed to be master in his Kingdom, intended 
to be master also of all minds, all wills, and all 
hearts — and one not only to be loved, but to be 
feared. He replied " as a peremptory husband who 
disliked opposition of any kind." 

It was at this moment that Olympe Mancini re- 
commenced her attempts at revenge upon the favourite. 
She had been clever enough to interest Madame 
Henriette, whom Marie-Therese, in her ignorance, 
accused of leading the King astray, because he was 
always to be seen at her house. He was really attracted 
thither only by La VaUiere. Still vexed at not having 
been able to keep his love, and even more annoyed " at 
being detested for another," Henrietta agreed with the 
Countess to denounce, directly and unmistakably, the 
Royal infidelities to the unfortunate Marie-Therese, 
who, suspicious but not indiscreet, feared everything 
and knew nothing. Strengthened by this alliance, the 



128 Louise de La Valliere 

astute Italian asked and obtained a secret interview 
with the Queen in the parlour of the Petites Carmelites, 
in the Rue du Bouloi. She recounted, in her own way, 
the love-affair between the King and La Valliere, and, 
what was more, told her of the fascination attempted by- 
La Motte-Houdancourt. 

This shot had scarcely carried when, leaving Marie- 
Ther^se in distress, Madame de Soissons fled to tell 
everything to Louis. She added (true niece of 
Mazarin !) that she had found the Queen already 
instructed by the Duchesse de Navailles, so that 
it was this poor lady and Marie-Therese who had 
to bear the brunt of his attack. The King, at bed- 
time, told the Lady-of-Honour that he knew all. 
She tried to justify herself, but blundered hopelessly. 
The only change Louis made in his conduct was 
that " instead of telling the Queen every day that he 
had come from Madame's, he now freely confessed that 
he had been elsewhere." 

One evening in the following winter, " the King, 
who had been with La Valliere from midday until 
four o'clock in the morning, came to lie down ; he 
found the Queen in her petticoat, sitting before the 
fire with Mme de Chevreuse. As he was still angry 
with her about La Valliere, he asked her, with intense 
coldness, why she was not in bed. ' I was waiting for 
you,' she answered sadly. ' You seem to imply that 
you wait for me very often,' replied the King. ' And 
so I do,' she answered ; ' for you no longer care 
for me ; you seem to care more for my enemies.' 
The King looked at her with a haughtiness amounting 
to contempt, and said mockingly, 'Alas, madame, 
that you should have learnt so many things ! ' and, in 
leaving her, ' Go to bed, madame, and don't argue so 
much.' The Queen was so overwhelmed that she 
rushed pleadingly towards the King, who was striding 



Louise de La Valli^re 129 

about the room. * Well, madame, what do you wish 
to say ? ' he asked her. ' I want to tell you that 
I love you always, whatever you do to me,' replied the 
Queen. ' And I,' said the King, ' I will manage 
so well that you shall be no longer troubled ; but if 
you wish to please me, you must cease all communica- 
tion with Mme de Soissons and Mme de Navailles ' — 
because he knew that they had talked of La Valliere." ^ 



Beneath this picture, so life-like that it must 
be true, one ought to write, in the form of a 
legend, one of the excellent Mme de Motteville's 
reflections : '* The misfortune of our sex is such 
that men, who have made the laws, have removed 
all rigour from them as regards themselves ; and it 
is only in Heaven, where all are equal, that each 
shall be rewarded according to his deserts." We 
can add nothing to this just and pious reflection, but 
can only commend it to the notice of that sex which 
still makes the laws ! 

It was towards the beginning of July, 1663, that 
Mme de Soissons had denounced the King to Marie- 
Ther^se. The Italian woman was ignorant then of 
the fact that there was a new bond between Louis 
and his mistress. Louise was about to become a 
mother. For a long time the secret was kept between 
herself and the King ; but in August Louis was 
obliged to go to the Siege of Marsal, in Lorraine, 
and he wished, before his departure, to ensure the 
well-being of his mistress. 

Proud and peremptory as he was, he had never for- 
gotten his respect for his mother. In all probability, 
this was the first-fruit of his many illegitimate love- 

' Hist: amour: des Gaules. This passage is also found in Le Palais- 
Royal^ ou les amours de Mile de La Valliere. 



130 Louise, de La Valliere 

affairs. His mistress was even more desirous to 
conceal it than he was. They were both beset with 
anxiety. 

Saint-Aignan had been usually employed by Louis 
in his escapades ; but now, by a very characteristic 
impulse, he appealed to quite a different sort of man. 
Jean-Baptiste Colbert '*had a naturally scowling face. 
His hollow eyes and thick black eyebrows gave him 
a sinister air, and made him at first sight seem fierce 
and unprepossessing ; but in the end he was found 
to be most thoroughly reliable. The Cardinal had 
recommended him to the King as a trustworthy man 
— an excellent creature, who would be entirely faithful 
to him." Louis' thoughts now turned towards this 
man, whose solid qualities he had for long appreciated. 
Colbert was quick at taking a hint, and placed himself 
and his wife at the King's disposal. By a coincidence 
which had probably not escaped the memory of the 
lovers, Madame Colbert was partly a country-woman 
of Louise's. Daughter of Jacques Charon (Lord of 
Menars and Bailiff of Blois) and Marie Begnon, whose 
family had been esteemed in the Blois country, she 
must have known the La Vallieres or the Saint- 
Remis ; moreover, she was a kindly woman, and very 
expert in the rearing of children, having brought up 
seven of her own.^ 

Louis, now definitely at war with the Due de 
Lorraine, left for Marsal on August 25, and this 
expedition, his first military attempt, lasted until 
October 15. For two months he incessantly corre- 
sponded with his mistress. Colbert conveyed these 
letters from the King : *' Those with no superscription, 
forward to the person I mentioned on leaving. You 

^ Mazarin, a good judge, had already noticed these qualities, and 
had recommended his nieces to make the acquaintance of this sensible 
woman. 



Louise de La Valli^re 131 

understand." On September i, the King wrote : 
'* I address the letters for the Queens to you ; and 
you know all about those that have no address." 

On his return, he decided to take Louise away from 
Madame's apartments. This was not difficult, for, 
after two years of persistent love, nobody could think 
it strange that the King should free his mistress from 
such an equivocal position, as painful to her as it 
was wounding to Henrietta. A certain Brion — some- 
time a dandy but now very much on the wane, who 
died just in time to escape ridicule — having wanted to 
marry Menneville, that tool of Foucquet's, had had 
a pleasure-house of the type later called the Folies, 
built in the garden of the Palais-Royal. It was on 
that side where to-day runs the Rue Richelieu, at the 
top of the old Rue des Bouchers. This so-called palace 
was about seventy-two feet long, and twenty-four feet 
wide ! It was a simple little erection of one storey. 
The King bought it, furnished it richly, and gave the 
" Palais Brion " to La Valliere,^ who lived there '* in 
a very retired manner, never going out, and dressed 
always in a loose robe. Those whom she received 
in the evenings for card-playing saw her only in 
bed." 

Colbert succeeded in finding a confidential maid, 
the demoiselle du Plessis ; " then, through this young 
lady, he had all the necessary baby-linen brought 
into the house." But we must let him speak for 
himself. " For the bringing-up of this child in the 
secrecy which the King has enjoined upon me, I have 
arranged with Beauchamp and his wife, two old 
servants of my family, who live in the Rue aux Ours, 
at the corner of the street which runs behind Saint-Leu- 
Saint-Gilles. I have told them, as a secret, that my 

' We found in the Bibliothlque nationale, in the Engraving Depart- 
ment, a plan of the Palais Brion. 



132 Louise de La Valliere 

brother is about to have a child by a lady of rank, and 
that to save her honour I am obHged to take care of it, 
and am going to entrust it to their care. They have 
gladly accepted this proposal." 

As a last and indispensable precaution, the accoucheur 
Boucher was warned. Two cautious notes (not a name 
mentioned ; Louise was la personne^ Boucher rhomme) 
prove that Louis was most solicitous about his mistress's 
condition. He was with her when the pains began ; 
but at that supreme moment when a woman longs to 
clasp the hand of the man who has made her a mother, 
Louis was obliged to be absent. 

It was December 18, 1663. He instructed Boucher 
to send him news by Colbert. That very day his 
Royal duties took him out hunting. On Wednesday 
the 19, at 3.30 a.m.,^ Boucher sent this note : "We 
have a boy, who is very strong. The mother and 
child are doing well, thank God. 1 await orders." 
And such orders as they were ! The mother kept 
her son for less than three hours. At six o'clock 
in the morning, before it was light, according to 
agreement, Boucher carried the child across the Palais- 
Royal, and, in obedience to his instructions, gave 
him to Beauchamp and his wife, " who were waiting at 
the crossway, opposite the H6tel Bouillon." The same 
day the newly-born infant was carried to Saint-Leu, 
and, by the King's secret orders, named Charles, son 
of M. de Lincourt and of damoiselle Elizabeth de 
Beux. He had for godfather Gury Focart, otherwise 
Beauchamp, and for godmother Clemence Pre, 
Beauchamp's wife.^ 



^ Colbert adds : "Three days after the full moon of the same month 
of December, which was on the 14th." People had not yet given up 
astrologically observing the hour of birth. 

* See Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, v. II. p. 201, in which is 
reproduced the piece entitled Particularites secretes de la vie du roy. 



Louise de La Valli^re 133 

Despite all precautions, the eyes of the whole Court 
were turned upon Louise. They began to tell 
romantic stories. One night Boucher had been fetched 
in a carriage and conducted blindfolded to a room 
where lay a masked lady, whose happy delivery he 
accomplished ; then, again blindfolded, he had been 
brought back to his house and handsomely paid. He 
himself had told it at Mme de Villeroy's. Who 
could this lady be except La Valliere, who had re- 
ceived nobody for four days, and whom they had 
seen, after four days, '* still in bed".'' They added 
that " on Wednesday morning M. Colbert had gone 
to the King, who was still in bed, and had talked 
with him for a long time. It was like the beginning 
of a novel." In this manner does the serious Olivier 
d'Ormesson express himself, and in this manner 
the legend has overrun history ! 

Louise, feeling herself observed, made a valiant 
effort to save appearances, and was courageous enough, 
on December 24, to attend Midnight Mass at the 
Quinze-Vingts. She was described as " very pale," 
and " much changed " — " nobody could doubt that 
she had had a son, who, rumour said, was being 
taken care of by Mme de Choisy." Always the 
same web of mistakes ! The King would never have 
given his confidence to that intriguing person. 

And so the first-born of Louis XIV. and Louise de 
La Valliere came into the world. A mother without 

In face of so authentic a text we must repudiate the mention made 
by genealogists of a Lotas de Bourbon^ born December 27, 1663. 
As to Louis, son of Laurent Limoisin, whom the editor of L Histoire 
amoureuse des Gaules (v. II. p. 46, Paris edition, 1857) considers to 
have been a natural son of the King's, we are convinced that he was really 
the son of Laurent Limoisin. The account of the baptism, quoted by 
this editor, permits no possibility of doubt. How can we imagine for 
a moment that Anne of Austria would have been godmother to a 
bastard of the King ? And further, how could the King possibly have 
been, godfather to his own son ? 



134 Louise de La Valli^re 

a husband, a father without a child, a child without 
either father or mother — these three had to submit to 
the inexorable moral laws which govern our world. 
What cruel humiliations await those who revolt against 
the established order of things ! 



SECOND PART 

1663 — 1666 



CHAPTER I 

END OF 1663 DECEMBER, 1664 

WITH the year 1664 begins the second period 
of the favourite's life — that life so envied, yet 
in reality so sad. To the attics of the 
Tuileries and of the Palais-Royal, wherein — less than 
the King's desire — the mocking eyes and satirical 
tongues of the Court-ladies had made her prefer to im- 
mure herself, there had now succeeded her own small 
house. But here, in a different form, she encountered 
the same vexations. 

Her love for Louis and her maternal duties would 
have satisfied her ; but the sovereign's multifarious 
occupations kept him away, and the child, hidden at 
a distance, could only be seen in secret. What, then, 
was to brighten the solitude of the Hotel Brion ? 
A few gentlemen, who hoped to please their lord by 
coming to play cards with his mistress ! No ladies. 
For her only companion, the d'Artigny girl — who 
had no reputation left, who had come to Court the 
expectant mother of a nameless child ; intelligent 
enough, but low-minded, and less of a confidante than 
of a spy. Except for a certain external elegance, Louise's 
life was almost that of a kept-woman. 

There is a scandal attaching to this epoch, as might 
have been expected. The house was very small. La 
Valliere's apartments occupied the first and only storey. 
There the King and his intimates played r ever si or 

137 



138 Louise de La Valliere 

brelan, as it happened to please His Majesty. The 
officers on duty, the guards, those courtiers who were 
excluded from the Royal tables, would remain on the 
ground-floor, in a little drawing-room which looked 
on to the garden of the Palais-Royal. Therein had 
been installed card- and billiard-tables, so that they 
could make some attempts at amusement. One 
evening, during a game of tric-trac^ an officer of the 
Body-guard, Busca, had some high words with his 
lieutenant, Talhouet, who, by way of reply, struck 
him with his baton. Busca drew his sword upon him. 
Then there were groans from Talhouet, and a general 
tumult. The King was furious at the noise, and sent 
the Due de Noailles to see what it was about ; but 
Busca had escaped through the window. He was 
condemned to death for contumacy all the same. 

" Respect for the two Queens " prevented " ladies 
of quality " from visiting or receiving the King's 
mistress, and, above all, from " belonging to her suite." 
Louise, when maid-of-honour to Madame, had had 
her appointed place in all the festivities, in all the 
ballets. But Louise the Royal favourite, hidden away 
in the Hotel Brion, was quite a different person. 
And so the nymph of Fontainebleau, the graceful 
dancer, was given no part in the ballet of Les Amours 
deguish (danced on February 13, 1664, at the Palais- 
Royal), though Miles de Pons, de Coetlegon, de La 
Motte figured in it as attendants on Flora ; though 
Mile de Mortemart, quite recently become Mme de 
Montespan, displayed her dazzling beauty in it as a 
sea-nymph.-^ 

^ Ballet royal des amours deguises, Benserade, CEuvres, v. II. 
p. 316. This ballet is not by Benserade, but by the President de 
P6rigny, then Reader to the King. See Discours touchant la vie de 
M. de Benserade, prefacing his works. See Encyclopedie methodique, 
Ballet. This ballet was danced five or six times. See Gazette de 
France, Feb, 13, 16, 18, 20, 1664. 



Louise de La Valli^re 139 

The time came when this constraint was to prove 
intolerable to the King. He was on the point of 
giving those famous festivities at Versailles which are 
known as the " Pleasures of the Enchanted Isle " 
[Plaisirs de I 'tie enchantee\ and he could not resist 
the temptation of having his mistress there, and thus 
displaying her publicly as the object of his passion. 

Versailles, his favourite abode, had not yet under- 
gone the transformation which, some years later, 
converted it into the immense Palace of our contem- 
porary admiration. More elegant than grandiose, it 
was still in those days the Palace of Alcina. '* And 
in this lovely spot, where all the Court assembled on 
May 5 (1664) the King entertained more than six 
hundred persons, besides an infinity of people necessary 
to the dancing and acting, and artisans of all kinds 
from Paris — so that it really was like a small army." 

Louis began by assigning to the Marquis de La 
Valli^re a place of honour in a bout of Tilting at the 
Ring. One feels a certain regret at finding the young 
man appear as Zerbin (May 5, 1664), bearing as arms 
a phoenix on a log set ablaze by the sun, with the 
motto : Hoc juvat uri (" It is joy to be consumed 
by such a luminary "). And, as if the allusion were 
not clear enough, he recited this quatrain : 

" Quelques beaux sentiments que la Gloire nous donne, 
Quand on est amoureux au souverain degr6, 
Mourir entre les bras d'une belle personne 
Est de toutes les morts la plus douce h. mon gre." 

A moment's reflection would have shown him how 
unsuitable these lines must sound in the mouth of 
the favourite's brother. La Valhere was more dex- 
terous than tactful : he won the tilting-prize — a sword 
enriched with diamonds, together with cross-belt 
buckles of great value, "presented to him by the 
Queen-mother." 



I40 Louise de La Valli^re 

At the supper which followed the bouts, Louise 
sat at the Royal table, between Madame de Mars6 
and the d'Artigny girl. On the next day she was 
made remarkable in quite another way, during the per- 
formance of the tragi-comedy of La Princess e d' Elide. 
It would seem that Moliere, without for an instant 
forgetting the respect due to the presence of the two 
Queens, had nevertheless the knack of flattering the 
Royal passion on the boards ; and certain verses have 
become so enshrined in the legend of the love of 
Louis XIV. for Louise de La Valliere that they have 
actually been attributed — most flatteringly — to the 
lovers ! ^ 

In the course of these festivities the King held 
a private lottery. It was his own idea ; and his 
development of it deserves a moment's attention. 

" Since I have seen you," Louis wrote to Colbert, 
" I have had an idea which will cost me some money, 
but will give pleasure to many here — and especially 
to the two Queens. I want to have a lottery like 
that one of the Cardinal's — I mean, it is to cost 
nobody anything, except myself. . ? I don't want 
it to be worth more than three thousand pistoles, 
which, if well laid out, ought to buy me lots of 
jewels ; for I won't have any articles of wearing 
apparel. . . As no one will know anything about 
it, it will be all the easier for you to get things at 

' Le Palais-Royal^ ou les Amours de Madame de La Valliere, Hist: 
amour: des Gaules, v. II. p. 84. " The King wrote this on his tablets, 
either from memory or his own inspiration, I know not which." Cf. 
La Vie de La Valliere, pp. 230, 231, 235, where the text varies slightly. 
Now, did Moliere accord to these lines the honour of being ranked 
with his own ? or did the author of the Palais-Royal quote them, in 
ignorance of Moliere's authorship ? The only chance of solving this prob- 
lem will occur when we have a good edition of the last-mentioned work. 

2 Louis is here alluding to some other lotteries which he authorised for 
the benefit of certain private persons. Loret, in his Muze historique^ 
gives a highly characteristic description of one for which Mme de 
Beauvais distributed the tickets. 



Louise de La Valli^re 141 

a moderate price. I should like the big prize to be 
worth five hundred pistoles ; and, for the others, I 
don't keep you to a fixed sum. I should like the 
handsomest things you can get at a reasonable price." 
Louis was afraid of annoying his economical Minister, 
so he tried to " meet " him in details. Moreover, 
though the King liked to be magnificent, the Man 
was still very prudent, and described himself most 
neatly when he said that he liked to have the hand- 
somest things at the lowest price. 

When all was arranged, Louis drew up the list of 
winners, and in doing so betrayed his secret desire. 
He wrote on it the names of the '* Miles de La 
Valliere." Several writers, in quoting the anecdote, 
have thought it necessary to correct the text, and 
name only Mile de La Vallifere. Louis knew what 
he was doing in thus mentioning together Louise 
and her sister-in-law (the wife of the Marquis) who 
was then and thus introduced at Court. From that 
day every one guessed the truth. 

Mme de Brancas was the first to approach the 
favourite, and this step was the more remarkable 
because her husband was chevalier d'honneur to the 
Queen-mother. They were neither of them, however, 
people with any exaggerated sense of honour. They 
had been in Foucquet's pay. Some one had written 
confidentially to him : '* As for the fat woman (the 
Queen-mother) Brancas and Grave will look after 
her for you : when one leaves her, the other instantly 
appears." But the Superintendent's disgrace had re- 
acted on their fortunes. Mme Brancas, nie Suzanne 
Garnier, the daughter of a Paymaster of Perquisites 
(Tresorier des 'parties casuelles)^ would have done any- 
thing to restore them ; so she " followed " La Valliere. 
She would not have hesitated, indeed, to put her own 
daughter in La Valli^re's place. 



142 Louise de La Valliere 

When Anne of Austria learnt this, she was furious, 
and bitterly reproached the Countess for her base 
behaviour. Brancas managed to get away without 
answering, and hurried to the King with the story 
of her scolding, setting it all down to the " perfectly 
ridiculous " prudery of the Duchesse de Navailles. 
Thus, when shortly afterwards at Fontainebleau the Due 
de Navailles, who commanded the Light Horse, re- 
quisitioned quarters for his troop, the King told him 
to get them and pay for them with his own money. 
*' Your Majesty's servants are very unfortunate to 
be treated in this way," replied the old soldier. 
Louis dared not reply ; but, when he got up to La 
Valliere's room, he cried : *' I only just staved off a 
quarrel with M. de Navailles. If I had been as 

violent as he was ! " And then later, unable to 

forgive his own intimidation, he ordered that faithful 
servant and his wife to resign their posts.-^ In such 
a fashion did he dismiss two of the most honourable 
persons of his Court — so honourable and so high- 
minded that, in his Memoires^ the Duke does not 
even mention the names of his enemies. 

When Louis struck a really arbitrary blow, he 
was always prepared for the consequences. This 
time he made a most singular display. With great 
deliberation, he replaced the upright Navailles in the 
Government of Havre by the complaisant Saint- 
Aignan. To fill the Duchess's place was not so simple ; 
that was a delicate business, which had to do with his 
own daily existence. Just as he had divined the docile 
servant under Colbert's stern exterior, so now he 
selected as the new Lady-in-Waiting a woman ap- 
parently very severe, but in reality most pliant. A 

^ Certain Memoirs, by a really reputable pen, declare that Navailles 
had "made a good thing" out of his appointment (Motteville, v. IV. 
p. 344) ; but the truth is that he lost money over them. See his 
Memoires. 



Louise de La Valli^re 143 

daughter of the famous Mile de Rambouillet, brought 
up in that Hotel, " the haunt not only of the wits, but 
of all the courtiers too," the most renowned abode in 
all the empire of the precieuses — Mme de Montausier, 
by her birth, her education, her marriage (that too, too 
prudent marriage with a man of terribly austere 
reputation !) and, finally, by her never-failing affability, 
had solved the difficult problem of pleasing everybody. 
But, beyond the universal favourite, the King's vision 
pierced to the woman " on the look-out," who would 
know exactly the right moment to be conveniently 
short-sighted. 



Although she was no longer maid-of-honour, Louise 
still had her room at the Castle. In the morning, 
careless of public opinion, Louis would coolly, under 
the eyes of the two Queens, go hunting with his 
mistress. After dinner, he would walk with her in the 
gardens. This was a great change from the furtive 
'meetings of 1661. The young monarch was indeed be- 
coming more and more of a libertine. Monsieur having 
asked him if he was going to perform his reHgious 
duties at Whitsuntide, he announced that he was not ; 
"/t^ had no intention of playing the hypocrite — like Mon- 
sieur, who only went to confession because the Queen- 
mother wished it." There was a marked coolness between 
the King and Anne of Austria. They barely spoke to 
one another. One day. Monsieur and Mademoiselle 
arranged to leave them alone together, hoping that the 
tete-a-tete would result in a reconciliation. But Louis 
stood leaning against a window for a moment, then, 
with a low bow to his mother, he withdrew. The 
poor lady, swallowing her sobs, fled from the courtly 
crowd, and refused to appear at supper. Next 
morning, Sefiora Molina, coming into her oratory, 



144 Louise de La Valli^re 

found her again in tears. Molina was discreet, and 
tried to retire, but Anne of Austria made a sign to her 
to stay and kneel beside her. Then, looking tearfully 
at the faithful creature : " Ah, Molina ! " she said, 
expressing her grief in two words, *' estos hiyos ! " 
(*' These children ! ") 

However, as her confessor had ordered her to speak 
first to the King, Anne curbed her pride. But Louis, 
on his side, "had not slept all night." "Dissatisfied 
with himself," " feeling himself in fault," he too was 
ready to take the first step : in his turn, he humbly 
begged for pardon. He even said to Le Tellier that 
his love for his mother " would have obliged him to 
do anything that was necessary for a reconciliation with 
her." Anything ! 'Twas the phrase of a day — for- 
gotten the day after. Anne of Austria, mistakenly 
thinking the moment a favourable one, pointed out to 
the King " that he was intoxicated with his own 
greatness, and set no limits either to his desire or 
his revenge." Dwelling on the " danger to his 
salvation," she begged of him to will, at least, to 
break the chains which bound him. He replied " that 
he knew his errors, that he sometimes felt grieved at 
them and ashamed of them, that he had done what 
he could to keep himself from offending God ; but 
he was obliged to confess that his passions had out- 
stepped his reason, he could not resist them, and 
could not even say that he desired to do so." This 
was such a frank avowal that it cut short every 
remonstrance ; nor was it all. Louis believed in the 
maxim that " in difficult interviews, it is not enough 
to set things right again ; one must gain some ad- 
vantage that one had formerly lacked." In other 
words, after having repulsed an invasion, it is your 
turn to invade I He therefore told his mother that 
" he had long fought against the desire to ask ladies 



Louise de La Valli^re 145 

of quality to ' follow ' Mile de La Valliere, but had at 
last resolved to do so, and begged her not to oppose 
him." The defeated Anne of Austria could think of 
no reply, except that it was at least something to know 
that one was wrong, and that she begged him to pray 
to God for the further grace of good-will. While 
awaiting this, Louis proceeded as before. He was to be 
seen every afternoon walking in the Terrace-gardens, 
followed by all the gentlemen of his Court, with 
Louise by his side — Louise, then in the full flower of 
her beauty.^ 

Very evident indeed was the change in the once 
timid and cautious young sovereign ; and soon he 
went further, and resolved to have, once for all, a 
full regal explanation with the Queen. Towards the 
end of the September of this year (1664), having to 
stay for a few days with his brother at Villers-Cotterets, 
he decided to take Louise with him to join the little 
family party. The Queen was pregnant, and therefore 
was obliged to remain behind at Vincennes. She heard 
of this project, and the night before he left, the King 
found her bathed in tears in her oratory. He told 
her, coolly enough, that he sympathised with her 
troubles, and, by way of perfect consolation, went 
on to promise her that when he was thirty he would 
settle down and be a model husband. (He was then 
twenty-six, so a short four years of indulgence was all 
he asked). . . With that he departed, and his mistress 
with him — " and everything went on as usual," which 
means that he had a pleasant visit with Louise, while 
Anne of Austria looked after the humiliated Marie- 
Therese. 

And so La Valliere became publicly the favourite. 
The great ladies " followed " her. She was formally 

^ " Mile de La Valliere was looking very handsome then " (Mile de 

MONTPENSIER, V. IV. p. 3). 

10 



146 Louise dc La Valli^re 

presented by the King to Madame, her one-time 
arrogant and jealous mistress, and we must confess 
that she showed no reluctance ^ to mount that left- 
handed throne which, later on, she was to speak of as 
her " scaffold." From that day forward, she was 
courted by all, and she lost her head at last. Till 
then, however, the insult to the two Queens had been 
merely an indirect one. They could look away, or 
stay in their rooms, when Louis was promenading the 
garden with Louise. The Castle of Vincennes was to wit- 
ness the supreme affront to these two illustrious ladies. 

On his return from Villers-Cotterets, one October 
evening (between October i and 19, 1664), the 
King brought his mistress into the Queen-mother's 
room and sat down with her to play cards, their 
partners being Monsieur his brother, and Madame. He 
had chosen his day well, showing that discretion which 
is the better part of valour, for both Anne of Austria 
and Marie-Th6r^se were keeping their rooms. 'Twas 
an assault by surprise ! The Queen was furious when 
she heard of *' that girl's " intrusion, and sent Madame 
de Motteville to Anne of Austria ; but Madame de 
Motteville met Madame de Montausier in the corridor. 
" The Queen-mother," exclaimed the new Lady-in- 
Waiting, *' has acted admirably in having consented 
to see La Valliere. It shows that she is a very clever 
woman, and a good tactician as well. But she is so 
weak that we can scarcely hope that she will carry 
through her good beginning." Had the Queen- 
mother consented to see La Valliere, as the complaisant 
Montausier supposed } It is extremely doubtful. Anne 
had just been badly beaten, and no doubt thought 
it useless to give battle again, so, speechlessly, she 
resigned herself to suffering with her daughter-in-law. 

* "She desired if (Mme de Motteville). The HbelHsts say the 
same. 



Louise de La Valli^re 147 

At the moment of passion's victory over conscience, 
an incident supervened which might have despoiled 
the triumphant young lady of all her prestige, and 
caused the romance of her life to end in vulgar 
commonplace. 

Less patient than Anne of Austria, Marie-Therese 
had been profoundly disturbed by the " creature's " 
intrusion into her Palace. Her nerves suffered badly, 
and the physical reaction declared itself by violent 
internal pains. One month afterwards, the Queen 
was prematurely delivered of a daughter.-^ It was a 
terrible ordeal, and she thought she was going to 
die. All the last rites had been performed, and the 
poor Queen (who was so entirely worthy of her high 
place) declared that her one regret was '* for the 
King," whom she loved in spite of all — and " for that 
woman " {y esta muger), she added, pointing to the 
Queen-mother. Louis XIV., *' carrying out those 
astonishing contradictions of character which were as 
remarkable in him as in all other men, seemed deeply 
grieved." He said to the Mardchal de Villeroi " that 
although it was a great grief to him to lose a child, 
he would be consoled for that if God, in His mercy, 
would spare the Queen — and let the child live long 
enough to be baptized." ^ The child — such a child ! 

^ Marie-Anne, born Nov. i6, 1664; died Dec. 26, 1664. Mme de 
Motteville must be mistaken in saying the Queen was well hy Nov. 18. 

^ Mme DE Motteville, v. IV. p. 363. Here again the novelists, 
who are important as giving the general tenor of public opinion, 
render the facts " with a difference " but with quite colourable 
probability. They bring Mme de Montausier on the scene (she 
thoroughly deserves a place in these compositions !) and represent 
her as trying to convince the Queen that it was her duty to receive 
La Valliere. " ' But, madame,' interrupted the Queen, ' how is it 
even conceivable that I should receive the girl ? I love the King — 
and the King loves only her.' The King, who was on the watch, 
entered suddenly ; the Queen was so amazed at the sight of him 
that she blushed violently, and it brought on bleeding at the nose. . . 
Three days later she was delivered of a little hairy, swarthy girl ; 
and she nearly died of it." 



148 Louise de La Valli^re 

Swarthy, hairy — terrible to behold. . . 'Twas whispered 
that the Queen had been stared at by a young Moor. 
The unfortunate baby died almost at birth ; but, short as 
its life had been, the monstrous apparition had horrified 
every one, and afflicted the Royal Family beyond words. 

It is said that then the young Queen, tortured by 
jealousy, begged her much-moved and deeply saddened 
husband to get La Valliere married. The King was 
taken by surprise ; he knew not what to say. But 
he could not promise, neither did he dare to refuse 
his wife's dying request ; so at last he said " that he 
would not oppose it ; they might look for a match 
for her if they liked." He promised, in fact, to be 
neutral. And that was all " they " asked. 

As if this story were dedicated to the improbable 
— to whom was Louise now offered } To Vardes, her 
deadliest enemy ! It is true that the two Queens, nay, 
even the King himself, were as yet unaware of his 
abominable machinations. But if any one were likely 
to be antipathetic to simple, frank Louise, surely it 
must have been this pretentious and artificial personage. 
The story is confused just here. Most reports affirm 
that everybody refused her, and that Vardes, despite 
the bait of a million livres, refused her also : not 
from delicacy, for he was the son of a mistress of 
Henri IV. ; not from fear of any further attentions 
from the King, for, as he did not love La Valliere, 
the King would have done him a favour in seducing 
her afresh. His refusal was prompted by no such 
small matters; the fact was that he loved some one else.^ 

^ Le Palais-Royal : Hist: amour: des Gaules, v. II. p. 60, 
Boileau edition. Since we are referring to this edition, we must 
point out tliat note 2, on page 60, is erroneous. As to the text itself, 
it is very corrupt. It begins by reporting an incident of the year 
1664 (that of the birth of the little " Moorish " baby), and ends by 
giving, as a consequence of the marriage-project, that affair of the 
attempted anonymous letter in Spanish, which took place in 1662 ! 
Again, Vardes is made to utter this absurdity • " The late Comte de 



Louise de La Valli^re 149 

Louise also refused — and her refusal is far better 
authenticated than the other .-^ 

In the meantime Marie-Ther^se had got well. The 
King instantly took back his promise. There was a 
lively scene between him and his mistress. Louise said 
the plan was an outrage. Louis justified himself as 
best he could. " If he had let them talk of marriage, 
it was only because he knew that she would not hear 
of such a thing." Her final speech (according to the 
chronicler) is full of touching and wistful sensibility. 

" I will tell you ! I could die easily enough ; but 
I cannot give you up, and I would rather lose my life 
than lose the lovely hopes you have given me — therefore, 
go on loving me. If you cease to do so, I know quite 
well that life will hold nothing more for me." The 
King fell on his knees before her. " I should be a vile 
wretch indeed," he cried, *' if, after that, I could live 
for any one but you ! " ^ 

It was this moment which was chosen for the 
oiFering of some officious counsel by the Due de 
Mazarin, that jealous husband of a giddy wife 
(December 8, 1664). He pointed out to the King that 
his liaison with La Valli^re was shocking the whole 
nation, that it was high time he corrected his behaviour, 
and that if he (the Duke) spoke thus to his Sovereign 
it was because God had inspired him to do so. The 
King kept absolutely calm. " Have you quite 
finished .f* " . . . Then, touching his counsellor's fore- 
head, *' I always did think there was a wound, or 

Moret, my father." He was merely the Count's widow's son — and 
that is a polite way of putting it. Nevertheless, the libel — distorted 
as the text is — gives one side of the truth. 

' Despatch from the Ambassador Sagredo to the Doge of Venice, 
March 20, 1665. Archives de la Bastille, v. I, p. 284. This text 
is decisive. It proves that La Valliere refused him — and incidentally 
thus upholds the veracity of the Palais-Royal libel. 

^ Le Palais-Royal : Hist: amour: des Gauks, v. II p. 60. Do not 
too hastily despise our author : he wrote before 1666 1 



150 Louise de La Valli^re 

something, just there. . . ." There was no mistaking 
what this meant, and Mazarin retired in disorder. 
The Court chuckled over the delicious tale for the 
next month. 

It would neither be right nor desirable to exculpate 
Louise de La Valliere from the reproach that her 
conduct deserves. That affront to the two Queens ! 
. . . Yet the contemporary writers, who witnessed the 
affair, leave all the odium of it to the King. And 
it is easy to believe that in appearing at Fontainebleau, 
and above all at Vincennes, Louise was merely obeying 
the orders of her Royal lover, when we learn that at 
this hour of apparent triumph the poor girl was trying 
to conceal the fact that she was once more pregnant. 

She was obliged to return to the Brion abode. By 
a curious coincidence, it was there (December 20), in 
her own room, that Louis XIV. heard of Foucquet's 
sentence of banishment. " If they had condemned 
him to death," cried the King, " he might have died, 
for all I should have done." Those were hard words, 
expressive of an excessive and unmerited resentment. 

On January 7, 1665, Boucher the accoucheur once 
more entered by the gate opening into the Palais-Royal 
gardens, and at noon precisely, a little boy was born. 
In the evening of the same day, at nine o'clock, Colbert 
was waiting at the same furtive portal for the unac- 
knowledged child.-^ The poor little thing was fetched 
in the arms of a valet- de-chambre^ who was allowed to 
go no farther. Then Boucher and Colbert took 
charge of the infant, and, to cover their tracks, drove 
to the crossway of the Hotel Bouillon. There the 
child was given over to one Bernard, the husband 
of a demoiselle du Coudray, both formerly servants to 

* " The same precautions for secrecy as the King had desired to be 
taken on the former occasion " (Colbert, Lettres et Instructions, v. VI, 
p. 464). 



Louise de La Valli^re 151 

the Minister. The next day, by the King's command, 
it was baptized in the Church of Saint-Eustache, under 
the name of Philippe, son of Francois Derssy, citizen, 
and Marguerite Bernard, his wife. Colbert does not 
tell us what pretext he invented on this occasion, nor 
who " the sieur Derssy " was. The godmother was 
Marguerite Biet ; the godfather, Claude Tessier, ' a 
poor man," And so it was a "poor man " who answered 
to God for the Christian teaching of a great King's 
son ! But God did not put him to the test. Neither 
Philippe nor his elder brother Charles lived long : at 
the end of a bare year, two small angels were praying 
in Heaven for a mother who had sinned through love 
alone. 



CHAPTER II 

DECEMBER, I 664 JANUARY, I 666 

DESPITE the King's anxious surveillance — he 
never could bear to see his own methods adopted 
by others — Madame, the Comtesse de Soissons, 
Guiche, Vardes, and a few members of their set, had 
got, towards the end of 1664, into an amorous imbroglio 
of such a complicated description that even the con- 
summate art of a contemporary woman-writer -^ scarcely 
succeeds in making it clear to us. It ended in one 
of those " frantic feminine scenes " where no words 
are spared. And, although Louise de La Valli^re 
had nothing to do with it, it was near being the 
cause of her death. In connection with this affair, 
quite a new character now appears upon the stage. The 
Chevalier de Lorraine, Monsieur's favourite, Madame's 
foe — a sufficiently detestable attitude — the Chevalier 
de Lorraine had vainly wooed one of Henrietta's maids- 
of-honour. Vardes had had the effi-ontery to say that 
he would have done better if he had approached her 
mistress. The Comte de Guiche's father repeated 
this remark to Madame, Madame repeated it to the 
King, and Vardes was sent to the Bastille. He went 
there ostentatiously — and " everybody paid him visits." 
La Valliere's ex-confidant Mile de Montalais, still 
an exile in various convents, hated her seclusion worse 
than ever. She based her hopes of delivery from it 

* Hist: de Madame Henriette, p. 132 and sequitur. 
152 



Louise de La Valli^re 153 

upon her possession of certain letters exchanged 
between Guiche and Madame, which she had got hold 
of. When she heard the latest gossip, she offered to 
help Vardes out of his scrape if he liked to make use 
of three of these letters. To his honour, the prisoner 
refused. But the Comtesse de Soissons, nee Olympe 
Mancini, was less accessible to such exaggerated French 
scruples : she caught at the weapon the letters afforded 
her, and began to talk. She was so carried away that 
she actually talked of the Spanish letter, which she 
had written, and Guiche had merely translated. She 
added that Madame, *' who was still English at heart," 
was betraying France — had she not tried to prevent 
her brother Charles from giving back Dunkirk ? 

She was quickly paid in her own coin. One day, 
at a ballet " a la tribune^'' Henrietta had the Countess 
turned out of her seat. The King observed to his 
sister-in-law that she *' ought to be more careful with 
her rival. . ." That was the end of all things ! The 
English-French Princess, the born Royalty, easily 
defeated the \x.2X\2ci\parvenue Countess, Madame would 
perhaps have sacrificed her resentment for Guiche's 
sake ; but she could not endure the idea of that 
" Mazarin-woman " profiting by her denunciation and 
gaining the Royal favour once more. Henrietta was 
light, but she was not corrupt ; her maxim was that 
*' when you were in a fix, it was the truth alone which 
could get you out of it." And often, truly, when 
she seemed lost in a labyrinth of intrigue, she would 
suddenly emerge triumphant from the maze, with 
" the truth " upon her lips ! 

Moreover, Louis XIV., King of France, was very 
careful to avoid offending the sister of the King of 
England, so immensely influential as she was with her 
brother. If he now feigned to believe in these accusa- 
tions of perfidy, it was only to take advantage of her, 



154 Louise de La Valli^re 

and thus force her to serve him better.^ Hence 
his dehberate vengeance fell on all except Madame. 
It fell on VardeSj who was put in prison ; on Guiche, 
who was exiled to Holland ; on Madame de Soissons, 
who was dismissed from Court. But the Mancini had 
no intention of leaving the place without revenging 
herself, in her turn, upon the inoffensive La Valli^re. 



At this time, there was much talk about a woman 
called Catherine Monvoisin — or, more familiarly, " la 
Voisin." This was a creature of about twenty-nine, 
rather vulgar-looking, but whose face was lit into some 
intelligence by a pair of small bright eyes.^ She was 
married to a man who had been successively a jeweller 
and a mercer on the Pont Marie, but had had to 
shut up shop. Her story was that these commercial 
misfortunes had obliged her to " cultivate the talents 
that God had given her " — namely, chiromancy and 
an eye for physiognomy. Ever since she was nine 
years old, she had been telling fortunes on the bridges 
of Paris. To these so-called celestial gifts she now 
added some most infernal industries. La Bruyere 
speaks of a Canidia " who has wonderful secrets ; she 

^ We quote an interesting despatch from the Ambassador Sagredo 
to the Doge : " People are whispering that the King is displeased with 

Madame not for her love-affairs, for every one knows she is above 

reproach in such matters, but because of the hints that have been made 
to her about keeping Dunkirk for her brother ; and the King is deeply 
concerned at the thought of anything which might prevent him from 
conquering that town. 

" Your Serenity will understand that one knows perhaps a little more 
about it all than one quite desires, and that an embarrassment which 
began in mere feminine intrigue may extend itself considerably, and 
affect grave interests of State " (Paris, April 3, 1664). 

2 See her portrait engraved by Antoine Coypel. This portrait has 
been twice engraved. The first, about 400 millimetres high and 280 
broad, exists in the first state without signature; and in the second 
with the signatures A. C. on the left side and on the right Exc. 
C. P. R. The second is 216 millimetres high and 142 broad. 




After the picture by Coypel. 



PORTRAIT OF LA VOISON. 



^ Louise de La Valli^re 155 

promises young wives second husbands, telling them 
exactly the when and the how^ La Voisin was 
certainly, if not La Bruyere's Canidia, a Canidia. She 
was by way of being a midwife ; she helped babies 
into — and out of — -the world. In 1664, persecuted, 
as she said, by the Missionaries (it sounds like some 
Megaera of the Commune), this worthy person had 
fled to a rather disreputable part of the town, called 
Villeneuve-sur-Gravois, or Villeneuve Beauregard, which 
had lately grown up upon the debris of some old 
fortifications around Notre-Dame de Bonne Nouvelle. 
Here, amid some waste sort of land, la Voisin possessed 
a little garden which she used as a cemetery. She had 
run up a rustic grotto, as was then the fashion ; and 
at the end of the grotto she had an oven, where she 
would carbonise bones, distil toads, and so on. 

At the door of this den of iniquity there arrived 
one day three fashionable ladies. One of them, draw- 
ing the sorceress aside, inveigled her out into the 
gruesome garden and on into the sinister " office," 
and then held out her hand. Directly la Voisin saw 
the Mount of the Sun — she probably knew a good 
deal about the lady beforehand — she told the visitor 
that "she must have been loved by some great Prince." 
The visitor knew this, however, quite as well as she 
did ; so, cutting short a useless revelation of the past, 
she exclaimed, " Shall I again be loved by him } " 
" No. That will never be." " But it must be. . ." 
And then, dropping all pretence of a consultation 
with the Palmist, the Comtesse de Soissons, seeing 
that she was recognised and having, for that matter, 
no desire to remain unknown, addressed herself frankly 
to the Poisoner. " Who was keeping the King 
from her } " La Valliere. . . Then she must find 
some means of getting rid of La VaUiere. " That will 
be extremely difficult," replied la Voisin. Upon 



156 Louise de La Valli^re 

which the Countess replied : " 1 shall find the means ; 
and if I cannot revenge myself upon her, I shall go 
further. I am utterly reckless." With that she 
turned to go back. " I shall get rid," she repeated, 
'* of one or the other — no ! of both." ^ But at this 
moment, one of the ladies of her suite spoke to la 
Voisin. '* Come ! tell us whether her friend will 
return to her ? Will she succeed in her plans } " 
This inquisitive person was no other than Mile du 
Fouilloux, who, like her mistress, pretended to be 
a friend of La Valliere,^ while all the time she was 
betraying her. 

" t shall find the means," Olympe Mancini had said. 
Well ! shortly after the visit to la Voisin's den, the 
Hotel Brion was actually attacked. One night, Louise 
de La Valliere was just falling asleep when a sudden 
barking from her little dog awoke her. She heard a 
noise at her window, and a sound of footsteps in an 
apartment near her own. Instantly she fled to her 
maid's room. The alarm was given, and hooks and 
rope-ladders were found, evidently flung away by 
the aggressors.^ 

^ Archives de la Bastille^ v. VI. pp. 5, 103, 160. La Voisin never 
wavered on this point ; and this viras so commented upon that Mme de 
Soissons, thus exposed, at last exiled herself. 

2 Mile de Fouilloux (who was then dame d'Alluye) fled with 
Mme de Soissons in 1680. We can calculate by this the gravity 
of the charges against these ladies. 

We have not been able to place the precise date of this visit within 
a few months. La Voisin was still on the Pont Marie in 1664. On 
the other hand, Mile de Fouilloux was not married, and did not marry 
till January, 1667. Mme de Soissons was exiled from March, 1665, 
till some time in 1666. This limits the possible date of her visit to 
La Voisin to between October, 1664, and February, 1665. Finally, as 
Olympe had her fifth child on January i, 1665, it seems probable that 
these proceedings took place before February, 1665. We need not 
stop to examine a note to the Memoires de Sourches, v. L p. 39, which 
seems to contradict us, for la Voisin's deposition is precise. See 
Archives de la Bastille ^ v. VI. p. 161. 

' Le Palais-Royal, Hist: a?nour: v. II. p. 66. This book is 
certainly very poor authority, and I should not have invoked it 



Louise de la Valli^re 157 

There was no mistaking the object of the attempt ; 
but, despite the offer of a large reward, the authors 
were never discovered.^ Certain details, reported in 
contemporary memoirs, prove that this was not the 
sole step taken. Louis not only thought it well to 
have the Brion Palace guarded,^ but he gave La 
Valliere " a maitre d' hotel who was to taste everything 
she ate." Thus already we see dawning that fear of 
poison, which (too well-founded as it was) haunted 
the Court and the town for so long. 



Guiche did not go into exile until May. He had 
just returned from a long and difficult campaign in 
Poland, where he had undergone many privations and 
trials. He was quite as much of a fop as Vardes, 
but he was less corrupt ; and he now prepared a sort 
of confession, in which, without exculpating himself 
or asking for pardon, he simply defended Madame, 
He loved her foolishly, but very sincerely, and he 
could not go without seeing her again ; so he managed 
to say his farewell to her as she passed, in her chair, 
through the courtyard of the Louvre. To succeed 
in doing this, he had been obliged to disguise himself 
as one of the servants of La Valliere, whom at one 
time he had courted, then despised, and finally attacked 
anonymously, unlike the fine gentleman he really was. 

if I had not found in one of Sagredo's despatches the following 
passage : " There is much whispered talk of the audacity of some 
folks unknown who attempted, but vainly, to enter the King's Palace 
(read Palais-Royai,), and actually to invade the favourite's apartments — 
according to what I hear " (March 20, 1665). Archives de la Bastille^ 
V. I. p. 284 ; cf. the letter from the Due d'Enghien, De La Valliere 
d Montespan, p. 18. 

^ Ten thousand louis, if we believe the Vie de la Duchesse de La 
Valliere^ p. 207 (Cologne, 1695). The author of this had perhaps seen 
a more complete text of the Palais-Royal than we have access to. 

* It is in this sense that we must interpret that passage in the 
Palais-Royal : "He gave her her own guards." 



15^ Louise de La Valli^re 

He was still wearing that grey livery when, taking 
his last look, he fell fainting before Madame's eyes. 
Great was the risk of his either being recognised or 
left alone in his swoon (March, 1665),-^ Where should 
they take one of La Valliere's servants, if not to La 
Valliere's house ! 

It was after this "big scandal," towards the early 
spring of 1665, that — most unfortunately for the 
author but very luckily for the book ! — there appeared 
the Histoire amoureuse des Gaules. It was the work 
of an idle gentleman, who may have been a very 
good General (he said so, at any rate, all his life) and 
was undoubtedly a witty fellow, a little " precious " 
sometimes, but always mordant and amusing. The 
book would probably never have seen the light if 
the manuscript had not been hawked about at the 
very moment when the King was unpleasantly re- 
minded of that wound to his vanity which the 
inventors of the Spanish letter had dealt. Louis, at 
any other time, would have tolerated a satire which, 
after all, scarcely affected him or his. But at this 
particular moment it annoyed him, and Bussy was 
*' presented," as they said then, " with a stone -pourpoint " 
— or, in the vernacular, put in the Bastille (April 16, 
1665).^ He left it only to be confined in his Castle 

' Hist: de Madame Henriette^ p. 164. This book, confirmed by 
Guiche's letter, and by d'Ormesson, is to be taken here as authoritative. 
Mme de La Fayette wrote in the actual presence of Henrietta. Properly 
speaking, the first part of her work ends here. The secret of the 
forged Spanish letter had been well kept, and few persons, even in 
1665, had any precise information. Guy-Patin, usually so well-informed, 
speaks of it as having happened quite recently — which shows, by the 
way, how cautiously one must regard even the best sources of in- 
formation in this kind of thing. See Guy-Patin, letter of March 20, 1665, 
V. III. p. 52. 

^ According to Voltaire, Louis " avenged his personal injury while 
appearing to yield to public opinion." "The King had been offended 
by one of the couplets in the song of the Hallelujah " (Steele de 
Louis XIV., ch. 26). These allegations are utterly false. 



Louise de La Valli^re 159 

at Chaseu. This excessive punishment attracted 
attention, piqued puUic curiosity — and the booksellers, 
no longer doubting the success of the work, had it 
printed by the thousand.-^ There was a sequel to 
the Histoire amoureuse in which, abandoning private 
persons and their adventures, the author chattered of 
the loves of the Gods and Goddesses, or, in simpler 
language, of the Amours du Palais-Royal. For that 
was the title of a little work composed undoubtedly 
about 1665, but not printed till 1666. The first 
edition having been entirely bought up — on Madame's 
account ! — not a single copy has survived to our day ; 
and, still more surprisingly, neither author nor pub- 
lisher seems to have made any effort to reproduce the 
libel, which would have been sure to sell like hot cakes. 
Only the imprudence — or possibly the bad faith — of 
those entrusted with its suppression made it possible to 
reprint, under the titles of Les Amours de Madame, 
L' Histoire du comte de Guiche^ Le Palais-Royal, those 
little pamphlets which, despite the most stupid 
alterations, do preserve, nevertheless, something of 
the original spirit. Louise de La Valliere, who is 
included with Madame, is far more leniently treated 
than is the Princess ; and that represents, as every- 
thing else in them does, the popular opinion of the 
time. 

For the Queen-mother as well as for the Queen, 
Louise was " a creature" ; and Marie-Therese, who was 
not even yet a good French scholar, sometimes used a 
harder term. But these two had every right to be 
severe. Otherwise, outside the little circle of jealous 

^ Naturally the printers did not allow the booksellers to spoil their 
market ! This explains the numerous contradictions and conjectures 
on the precise date of the first edition of Bussy's libel. Suffice it to 
say that at the beginning of 1665, the King knew it only in MS. 
{Memoires de Btcssy, v. II. p. 215). Bussy speaks of no printed text 
before i666. 



j6o Louise de La Valli^re 

women such as the Mancini, Fouilloux, Montalais 
ladies, the Court was on the whole disarmed by the 
modesty and gentleness of Louise. In the Amours 
du Palais-Royal she is judged by her contemporaries 
as she will be by history. She is represented as 
gentle, sweet, disinterested. She loves the King for 
himself ; she will never love any other man on earth. 
The chronicler indeed goes further. He knows that 
Louis is much besieged, that many fair ones desire 
him ; but, in his opinion, " La Valliere is, and always 
will be, his grande passion.'' He forgets that always 
is a word which Love omits from its heraldic motto. 
... To sum up, this publication could not fail to 
displease Madame, Monsieur, and the Comtesse de 
Soissons ; but for Louise de La Valliere it was almost 
a panegyric. 

There is a rather interesting anecdote in the Journal 
du Voyage du Cavalier Bernin. Bellefonds showed the 
Cavalier's drawings to Louise de La ValHere (July 12, 
1665), and told the author that '* she had thought 
them admirable, and that to criticise that sort of 
thing one had to know something about it. ' She is 
clever enough,' replied Bernin, ' as one can see by 
the position she occupies.' " Chantelou, the author of 
this Journal, who was present, added, " ' And especially 
as she has managed to keep it for four whole years.' " ^ 

At this very time a gentleman of Reims, working 
for his own edification alone, with no idea of publicity 
(which enhances his value for us), wrote down what 
he knew about the "ValHere lady," whose fame had 

* J. hALA^'tiE, Journal du Voyage du cavalier Bernin, etc., p. 50; 
Paris, 1888. I have done my best to make this dialogue intelligible, 
but the text is so confused that I give it verbatim. " He (Bellefonds) 
told the Cavalier that she thought them admirable. He said that one 
must know something about such things to be able to appreciate them. 
He (Bernin) rejoined that she was clever enough, and that it was a good 
proof of her cleverness to be in her position. I added, ' And to have 
kept it for four whole years.' " 



Louise de La Valli^re i6i 

penetrated to the provinces. It was about the period 
when the Comte de Soissons, Governor of Cham- 
pagne, was actually in residence there, and this, 
being unusual, attracted the attention of Oudart 
Coquault, a native of Reims. The inquisitive fellow 
ferreted out that " Madame, the Governor's wife, one 
of the late Cardinal Mazarin's vipers, as the common 
folk in France call her," had " tried to make mischief, 
and had actually caused to be written to the Queen 
a forged letter about a love-affair of the King's, which 
people say was with a lady called La Valliere." '* This 
Valli^re lady is compliant and complaisant, and 
beautiful, and wanton. The Queen is rather dull, 
with little conversation ; moreover, they say she doesn't 
speak French at all well. This gives cause for little 
jealousies, and also for the King's peccadilloes." 
Coquault was as tolerant as he was well-informed ; he 
adds : " But the people have no business to speak 
ill of their King, and about such trifling matters, too." 
This, at any rate, was a loyal subject ! 

But, in truth, the future Grand Monarqtie wanted a 
deal of indulgence. After having duly punished the 
amorous and temerarious de Guiche and de Vardes, 
and treated Bussy-Rabutin as a common libellist, 
Louis, as befitted a Sovereign, did exactly what 
happened to suit his fancy. Mme de Monaco had 
recently returned to Court. It appeared that the 
Prince, her husband, wanted to rectify the frontier 
of his State. Malicious tongues were whispering 
that certain ladies, who were jealous of La Valliere, 
would not be displeased to find the Princess attempting 
to divert the course of the Royal affections ; and 
Louis, who was quite determined to accord nothing 
to the husband, thought himself obliged to be therefore 
all the more charming to the wife. . . And now — enter 
a singular personality ! 

II 



1 62 Louise de La Valli^re 

Mme de Monaco, nee de Grammont, had a cousin 
called Puyguilhem, or Lauzun. He was a cadet from 
Gascony — small, but making the most of his inches, 
lively on his legs, and livelier still in his language ; 
with a good conceit of himself, but saying even more 
than he thought in his own praise ; very adroit with 
the great ones of the earth ; very skilful in the in- 
vention of novel ways of flattering, which were offered 
with a certain flavour of enhancing arrogance. 
Peguilin had, as was his bounden duty, fallen in love 
with his fair cousin, and when she got married he 
followed her, disguised as a postillion. He saw what 
the Prince failed to see, and he ordered the lady to 
stop flirting with the King, else he would ruin 
her by means of some of her letters. The Princess, 
however, got the start of him, and denounced her 
denouncer — which was clever of her, undoubtedly.^ 
Lauzun, summoned by the King, replied with insolent 
hauteur^ was sent to the Bastille, and there behaved 
like the most servile of lackeys. " One may not 
think of resisting the King," he kept saying. '* One 
must obey him, serve him, as a spaniel does its 
master." So penitent a fellow will never die in prison. 
Lauzun was soon out, and is henceforth to play a 
prominent part in the history of Louise de La Valliere. 
His cell was hardly vacant before Bussy-Rabutin was 
transferred to it ; and he, in his turn, was replaced 
by quite another type of prisoner — M. de Sacy, 
convicted of Jansenism (May 26, 1666). Thus, in less 
than eighteen months, this cell lodged a great variety 
of guests : Foucquet, Lauzun, Bussy-Rabutin, Sacy. 

1 D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 373. We cannot quote the 
anecdotes from the Memoires de Choisy and the Memoires de Saint- 
Simon. They both appear to be echoes of Lauzun's oral Memoirs. 
Saint-Simon undoubtedly errs in his dates. The Venetian Ambassador's 
Despatch to the Doge (July 18, 1665) is more trustworthy {Archives 
de la Bastille, v. II. p. 451). 



Louise de La Valli^re 163 

Evidently it was stupid to " resist " the King either 
in finance or gallantry — or even in religious opinions. 

We are not concerned with the nature of the 
intrigue between Louis and Mme de Monaco. We 
merely note this fresh symptom of inconstancy, which 
was scarcely noticed in the excitement of the 
festivities that were then (October, 1665) the sole 
occupation of the young King's mind. 



And yet, sad things were happening in some of the 
Royal apartments. The Queen-mother had been 
attacked by a terrible and implacable and unforeseen 
disease. Before she fell ill she had wished that God 
would send her some physical suffering " so that she 
might offer it up." But on a hospital-visit one day, 
she had passed the bed of a woman dying of cancer, 
and, overcome by unconquerable repulsion, she had 
fled, exclaiming " Oh God, oh God ! any scourge but 
that ! . . ." It was that scourge which had now struck 
her down. 

Marie-Therese and Mme de Motteville were by 
her bedside on Midsummer Eve. She was a little 
better, and was thinking of getting up. The two 
Queens were talking of the pain which the King's 
conduct gave them, when suddenly the younger, 
turning to her mother-in-law and looking at her with 
tender, tearful eyes, exclaimed, ''I shan't mind 
anything if God will spare me my mother." Then, 
to Mme de Motteville : *' Si la pierdo, que hare ? " 
("If I lose her, what shall I do } ") Anne of Austria 
tried to console her — but who could console the 
dying woman herself.? On Saint Anne's Day (July 
26) the fever was much worse, and she suffered 
terribly. The King was at his darling Versailles, where 
he liked both to display his splendour and to show 



164 Louise de La Valli^re 

what a great Prince can do when he stops at nothing 
to procure himself amusement. He often brought 
La Valliere there, and Madame actually joined the 
party at times. Anne of Austria was deeply hurt 
at her son's absence upon this, her jour de fete. She 
recalled the time when he would nurse her like a 
daughter, sitting up with her, sleeping on a mattress 
at the foot of her bed ; and when, next day, he came 
to visit her, she could not help reproaching him, and 
dwelling upon the scandal he would give rise to if he 
seemed so bent upon amusing himself while she was 
dying, Louis felt that she was right ; he saw that 
in his love of pleasure he was going too far ; he said 
he would follow her advice. And in fact, though he 
was obliged to return that day to Versailles to receive 
Henrietta of France, Queen-Dowager of England, he 
came back almost immediately. For once he deserted 
all those lady-friends, " who were fitted only for amuse- 
ment," and who indeed were but little grieved by the 
sufferings of their idolised Prince's mother at Saint- 
Germain. More than once, in after-years, the re- 
membrance of the dissipation and heartlessness at 
Versailles — which had so nearly infected even the son's 
heart — troubled the awakened conscience of Louise 
de La Valliere. 

The year 1665 ended in cruel suffering for Anne 
of Austria, which she bore with beautiful resignation. 
The New Year began with no less atrocious agony — 
but all was soon to be over. No one had dreamed 
that the end was so near ; it had seemed, indeed, that 
she would linger long. And so the impression of 
her reproaches had quickly faded from the King's 
mind, and the festivities had begun again. In the 
beginning of October (1665), an impromptu ballet 
was danced, with words by Dangeau and music by 
Frementeau. The cast was curious : the Governor 



Louise de La Valli^re 165 

of the Province was played by the King, the Governor's 
wife by Madame, his brother by the Marquis de 
Villeroy, his sister by Mile de La Valli^re. Louis 
had never been more devoted to his mistress, and 
the proofs of his passion were soon evident. On 
January 5, 1666, Monsieur and Madame entertained 
the King. " There had not been such a feast for 
ages." There was a concert in the Great Gallery of 
the Palais-Royal, a play in the Little Gallery, a supper, 
a ball. On the 6th, they " had to have time to 
breathe." On the 9th, there took place a ceremony 
particularly affronting to the Queen-mother and her 
mourning daughter-in-law. Thanks to a considerable 
fortune and great favours, Louis had succeeded in 
getting the Comte du Roure to marry Mile d'Artigny, 
that disreputable girl whose one desert was that she 
had served as confidante to La Valliere and spy to 
the King. She had been poor and despised ; now she 
was rich and envied. It was in Madame's apartment 
at the Palais-Royal that the betrothal was celebrated 
by Daniel de Cosnac, Bishop of Valence. The King 
was present, as he was also at the play, ball, and ballet 
which followed. On the loth, the gaiety began again 
at the Due de Crequi's. 

Let us hear Robinet, Loret's successor, the doggerel 
rhymester of fashion : 

" Enfin, par un aiinable Bal 
On finit la Rejouissance ; 
Mais apres, pour une autre Dance, 
On couche dans un Lit pompeux 
Ce beau Couple, selon ses Voeux. 
Car peu luy plaisoit la remise ; 
Et le Roy donna la Chemise, 
Avecque Monsieur, a I'fipoux, 
Par un honneur certes bien doux, 
Comme pareillement Madame, 
Avec une autre aimable Dame, 
A I'Epouse aussi la donna ; 
Et puis on les abandonna 
Tant a I'Amour qu'^ ses Complices," 



1 66 Louise de La ValHtre 

The author gives in the margin the " other lady's " 
name : 'twas the Marquise de Montespan. Well ! on 
the very night of these somewhat disreputable marriage- 
festivities, Marie-Ther^se, alone with Anne of Austria, 
was complaining of the state of affairs. These gaieties 
annoyed her more than any of the others had done, 
for she could not help seeing in them a proof of 
Louise's influence. Since her favour extended to 
d'Artigny, it must be far-reaching indeed. And the 
dying woman could not but agree, though, with her 
usual gentleness, she said that the follies of youth 
must be judged leniently — and then, to change the 
subject : " We shall have our turn ! " she whispered 
brightly. " We shall be dancing in the spring ! " Less 
than ten days afterwards she was in the final agonies : 
death had claimed at last her worn and emaciated 
body. The people grieved profoundly and sincerely. 
She had once been disliked and insulted, her name 
had been mingled with Mazarin's in the popular 
execrations ; but by her native charm and her maternal 
devotion, by her French sympathies and French ways 
of seeing things, she had disarmed prejudice and 
regained a wide popularity. It was only her intimates 
who had a word to say against her now. Her nearest 
relations were, if not exactly indifferent, at any rate 
disappointing. Monsieur shed many tears ; but his 
sorrows never troubled him long.^ Henrietta was 
very moderate in her grief, like many another daughter- 
in-law ; but the real surprise was that Marie-Therese 
was only too like Madame.^ Tender and loving as 

1 Mme DE MoTTEViLLE, V. IV. p. 434. See Madame de La Fayette's 
reference to the death of Monsieur's daughter : " Monsieur was as 
much grieved as he is capable of being. He was utterly overcome 
at first, but in four or five days he was quite himself again." 
Memoires de la cour de France, p. 143. 

2 "She who had really held a daughter's place in the Queen- 
mother's heart . . . was a little too much in sympathy with the 
other daughter-in-lavy " (Mme Dg Mottevij-LE, v. JV, p. 439). 



Louise de La Valli^re 167 

she was, and devoted as she had been during the 
long illness, Marie-Therese was now beguiled by " a 
malicious flatterer." It had been the King's desire 
that the Queen-mother should have precedence over 
her daughter-in-law, and this unknown toady pointed 
out to the consort that in future '* she would be the 
great lady." Even the King, grieved as he was, 
betrayed a certain satisfaction at being freed from all 
control. 

Passion detests constraint, which in reality preserves 
it, and longs for liberty — which kills it. Louis, 
though he had insulted his mother by bringing his 
mistress into her apartments, still imagined that he had 
preserved a perfect decorum. The day after Anne 
of Austria's death he said " that at least he had the 
comfort of thinking that he had never disobeyed her 
in anything of importance." From that day, at all 
events, " he put no further restraint on himself, as any 
fool could perceive " ; and that not in affairs of State, 
which the Queen-mother had long abandoned to him, 
but at Court, " which began to be a very different place 
indeed." The coffin was still at the Louvre, but this 
astonishing Court had fled to Saint-Germain, and on 
Wednesday, January 27, the Parliament, the Audit- 
chamber {Chamhre des comptes) the Court of Subsidies, 
i^Cour des aides) all arrived " to condole with the King 
upon the Queen-mother's death." At the Mass after 
the reception, the astounded magistrates beheld Mile 
de La Valli^re side by side with Marie-Therese. The 
Queen, 'twas said, had permitted this *' out of com- 
plaisance for the King, in which she shows great 
wisdofh." And neither the ladies nor the courtiers are 
responsible for this easy Maxim for Queens — the author 
of it is a solemn magistrate, Lefevre d'Ormesson. Not 
that, like so many of his confreres^ he was indulgent 
towards these fair misderneanants. *' Despite her lovely 



1 68 Louise de La Valli^re 

eyes and complexion," he says, " I do not admire this 
lady. . . She is very thin, her cheeks are lined (cousues), 
her mouth and teeth are ugly, her nose is thick, and 
her face too long." Evidently he regarded her with 
the eyes of an offended moralist ; but, apart from the 
temporary languor already alluded to, there is no doubt 
that Louise's beauty was beginning to lose its first 
freshness. Mystery, isolation, were her elements. 
Sweet, graceful, tender, rather than beautiful or brilliant, 
she withered in the glare of publicity. Already people 
were expressing surprise at her " ordinary appearance " ; 
soon the wits and the precieuses would hint that she 
was " rather stupid." Once let the King's passion 
show the shghtest sign of cooling, and harder sayings 
would be on every one's lips. The affair had caused 
much jealousy : its end would be proportionately 
welcome. 

Louise's brother was the first to feel the change — 
not that we need attach too much importance to 
various little favours he had enjoyed, such as the 
transfer to him of confiscated property, and so on. 
Indefensible as this kind of thing is, it belonged to 
the customs of the time. Lamoignon, for instance, had 
been granted the estates of a political victim. Jean- 
Frangois was probably a mere vehicle for liberalities 
not openly to be shown to Louise de La Valliere. But 
the young Marquis was not so excusable when, less 
than two years after his marriage, he made an exhibition 
of himself by a duel with the Chevalier de Lorraine 
about a niece of M. de Fiennes, with whom both 
gentlemen declared themselves in love. The King 
conveyed to the Marquis his desire that this latter 
*' should cause no further troubles of the kind about 
that girl." Monsieur, who had patched matters up, 
was nevertheless somewhat snubbing to the favourite's 
brother when that young man, uninvited, Joined the 



Louise de La Valli^re 169 

party at Saint-Cloud. Monsieur was given to little 
tempers, but Jean-Francois very probably did overdo 
the tone of familiarity, for about this time he thought 
well to write the King a letter of condolence on the 
death of Anne of Austria. Can he possibly have 
adopted a quasi- fraternal tone ? or was Louis already 
turning against him ? Be that as it may, the JVIarquis 
got a very distinct rebuff : " Monsieur le Marquis de 
La Valliere, what I have suffered in losing the Queen 
my mother, surpasses every effort of your imagination, 
and, to answer you in one word, pray realise that only 
the hand which has dealt the blow can possibly 
alleviate the pain it has given me." ^ 

There is no mistaking it — from the very beginning 
of 1666, the charm was evidently broken. That 
" eternal love," still flatteringly alluded to both in prose 
and verse, had ceased to be reciprocal. Was it Louise's 
pallor and emaciation which made her lover fickle ? If 
he noticed them, it was a sign that his love was dead. 

They were not of sudden growth, either. The year 
before, Louis had found his mistress lost in thought. 
On asking her why : " Don't think," she said, "that 
my glass doesn't show me how I've altered. I'm not 
pretty now. I have lost all my looks, and I am afraid 
that, that being so, you will want fresher beauties to 
admire. But be very sure that you will not find 
elsewhere all that 1 give you." The King looked at 
her tenderly. " He knows she loves him truly — just 
as he wants to be loved. It is her heart he prizes, 
not the freshness of her complexion, nor the brightness 
of her eyes ; no ! it is those moral beauties which she 
will retain as long as she lives." And Louise cries, 
" How good you are to me, dear Prince ! how kind 

' CEuvres de Louis XIV., v. V. p. 361. The letter is dated 
Feb. II, 1666. See D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 412, where the 
King announces that he does not wish to receive condolences from 
private persons ; only official ones are to be sent him. 



I70 Louise de La Valliere 

to reassure a heart which fears but because it loves too 
well ! Yes," she goes on, embracing him, " you are 
right in believing that it is not your greatness which 
dazzles me — that I never remembered your crown 
when I fell in love with you." . . . And so the conversa- 
tion went on, most tenderly — and yet she was sad 
when it was over. If the King's love does begin to 
fail her, she knows quite well what she will do ; she 
will be the first to retreat.^ Less than a year after this 
interview the King's love did begin to fail. Louise 
did not perceive it at first ; and when she did — when, 
abandoned, betrayed, and no longer able to conceal it 
from herself — she wished indeed to retreat, she had to 
learn, through five years of torture, that it is not so 
easy to return to the straight path as to leave it. 

^ Le Palais-Royal : Hist: amour: des Gatiles, v. II. p. 87. Some 
passages of this work were written before 1666 ; probably in 1665. 



CHAPTER III 

JANUARY, 1666 NOVEMBER, 1666 

ON the death of Anne of Austria, all fetes and 
masquerades were suspended; but, while omit- 
ting the town Carnival, the Court thought it 
necessary, on March 13, to divert its grief by a trip 
to Mouchy,^ where the King was to review fifteen 
thousand troops. " Many ladies came. Although they 
were in mourning {justaucorps de deuil)^ they amused 
themselves very successfully. The King was in great 
spirits, and sang songs along the road on the way 
back." La Valliere still rode beside the King, but the 
songs were no longer all for her. 

Lent was already far advanced. The Court-preacher, 
Bossuet, had on Lady Day preached a first solemn 
sermon to the memory of Anne of Austria. The 
Archdeacon of Metz, whom already rumour proclaimed 
Bishop,^ was faithful to her suggestions and to those 
of his own all-sufficing conscience, and was not sparing 
of advice to the young King, now freed from his last 
restraint. Louis listened only at very irregular 
intervals. The orator inveighed against the endless 

1 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, Memoires, v. IV. p. 30 ; Gazette de 
France, 1666, p. 515. The Court left on March 13, and returned on 
March 18. Note here a mistake of Mile de Montpensier's, who says, 
" They went to Mouchi in Leni." The editor, M, Cheruel, quoting 
Olivier d'Ormesson, mentions March 14. See Journal, v. II. p. 451, 
edited by Cheruel. 

^ " Abbe, digne d'etre prelat" (Continuateurs de la Muze htstorique 
de Loret, number for May 2, 1666, v. I. p. 836). 



172 Louise de La Valli^re 

pleasure-seeking of the Court, for ever on the road 
from Saint-Germain to Versailles and from Versailles 
to Saint-Germain. Between April 6 and 15, they 
commenced those parties at Versailles " where they 
only had a few people," and which were very de- 
lightful. Here is an account of them from the 
Gazette rimee : 

" Dans ces lieux d6licieux 
Notre Cour s'6baudit des mieux. 
La ramasse, I'escarpolette, 
Le volant avec la raquette 
Et d'autres petits jeux nouveaux, 
La chasse, le vol des oyzeaux 
Et le plus souvent des coeurs memes 
Sont la les d^lices supremes 
Que Ton goute h ce renouveau, 
Ou I'amour, mille fois plus beau, 
Se fait de toutes les parties, 
Qui sans lui sont mal assorties. " 

But Cupid, as usual, was giving more pain than 
pleasure. For instance, it was during one of these " little 
games " that Lauzun (Puy-Guilhem) was extraordinarily 
brutal to his dearly-loved cousin, Mme de Monaco. He 
knew, without a shadow of doubt, that she had at least 
compromised herself with Louis XIV. The King's 
person being sacred, he revenged himself on the 
unfaithful lady by crushing her hand under his heel. 
She was more frightened than hurt ; but when she 
discovered that it was Lauzun who had done it, she 
complained bitterly. Lauzun swore that it had been 
a complete accident, and offered to throw himself out 
of the window ; but he did not do so. The poor 
husband, M. de Monaco, declared he would be revenged 
for this injury, and went off to Holland to consult 
with his brother-in-law, Guiche. The King, utterly 
bored by the whole affair, took the trouble to draw up 
a sort of official report of the episode, and sent it to 
d'Estrades at the Hague, with orders to keep Guiche 
and Monaco under supervision. 



Louise de La Valli^re 173 

"You must know," he wrote, "that on Monday- 
last at Versailles, every one was in the drawing-room 
gambling for a jewel worth twelve hundred pistoles. 
The ladies were all sitting on the polished floor, as 
they thought it would be cooler. I was standing 
watching the game, with much interest to see who 
would win. Stepping back a little to see better, 
every one between me and the wall was obliged to 
change his place, and, amongst others, Puy-Guilhem. 
He moved quickly to make room for me, and unfortu- 
nately, quite by accident, trod upon Mme de Monaco's 
hand, which she had leant on the ground to support 
herself, but which was covered by her skirt in such a 
manner that nobody could see it — a circumstance of 
much importance, considering all you will hear." 

The Comte de Guiche was trying then to make a 
name for himself. Brave as we know he was, he had 
served with the French troops against the Bishop of 
Munster. In the winter, he had tried diplomacy, with 
a certain amount of success. Just now he was giving 
rein to all kinds of whims. For instance, he appeared 
one day on the Voorhout, dressed in the most extra- 
ordinary fashion, partly Grecian, partly Roman, but com- 
plicated by scraps from every nation, Italian, Spanish, 
Hungarian, all of the most eccentric kind. Vieing with 
him in oddity was another hare-brained creature, the 
Marquis de La Valliere, who had also distinguished him- 
self on the battle-field. But he was not clever enough, 
'twas said, to lay aside his French manners. These 
two great babies had not finished their masquerade when 
the Comte de Louvigny appeared, clothed quite simply 
as a lord of the French Court — and carried all before 
him. . . Guiche and La Valliere seem to have been great 
friends. The good Dutch people, who knew all the 
Court gossip from libellists, could hardly believe their 
eyes ; and it still more astonished them to see how gaily 



174 Louise dc La Valli^re 

these young scatterbrains would throw off their disguises 
and buckle on their armour. . . The journey, the climate, 
and the advice of d'Estrades, having calmed down 
Monaco's anger, he induced his brother-in-law to 
embark with him in the Dutch fleet. Their vessel, 
which went almost immediately into action, was boarded 
and sunk by the English, and they very narrowly escaped 
death. 

Jean-Francois had served on land under the orders 
of Pradel, and had just been nominated Captain-Lieu- 
tenant, and put in command of the Dauphin's Light 
Horse. His company had to be largely renewed, the 
majority of the officers who had composed it having 
gone to swell the lists of a new corps. However, 
filled up by the best men from four other companies, 
it cut quite a dash, and at the attack on the cemetery of 
Oudenborch, near Bois-le-duc, the Marquis took the 
position, disposed of six hundred of his enemies, 
captured a flag, and took prisoner Colonel Carp, 
Commandant of the Dutch Army. 

The humours of Louvois, who began his career 
as Minister of War, confirm rather than weaken the 
impression of young La Valliere's merit. They were 
old friends and merry companions. 

It is easy to be a good soldier and a good adminis- 
trator, as these young men were, without being exactly 
typical of all other virtues as well. On the day 
when the Peace of Munster was proclaimed, the 
Minister described the uneasiness among the Parisian 
ladies at the news of the Marquis's approaching return. 
" They fear that the laurels you have gained in foreign 
countries may make you arrogant in your native land, 
and that your tongue may be more dangerous than 
your pen. I have assured them that the heroes of 
old times always showed even more gentleness to 
ladies than brutality to enemies, and that you will 



Louise de La Valli^re 175 

follow in their footsteps ; that you are, besides, an 
honourable gentleman, and that I will stand your security 
for all this." 

This tone, rare enough then between a Minister 
and a young officer, is explained by the intimate 
friendship of which we spoke above ; and perhaps we 
may see, as well, the effect of the rumours which were 
then running through the Court. 

From March, 1666, the King's coldness towards his 
mistress became noticeable. On the following April 23, 
the Prince de Condd wrote to the Queen of Poland : 
" They think His Majesty is soon going to make 
Mile de La Valliere a Duchess ; she deserves it. 
No one can be more loved than she is at the Court, 
for she does no harm, and tries to do all the good 
she can." 

While all these incidents, and parties " paired off 
by love " were taking place, the experienced eye of a 
woman discovered signs of weariness in the King, which 
indicated that the hour had struck for new emotions. 
This, at least, was what Mme de Choisy imagined — 
the same person who had suggested " la petite La 
Valliere " to Madame Henriette. Perhaps her protegee 
had not been sufficiently grateful (that is the cardinal 
sin !), for she had asked no more for others than for 
herself Whatever may have been the reason, the lady 
now produced an heiress from Pousse, beautiful enough, 
but rather silly, with affected provincial manners. In 
this matter the clever go-between made a mistake. 
No two passions are alike. Louis was no longer at 
that tender age when a man is '' bowled over " by 
the first woman he sees ; nevertheless, the ex-patroness 
of little La Valliere was not entirely wrong — she had 
failed, but others were going to succeed. 

Just then a woman appeared, who, with every 
intention of fighting against Louise, went to live in 



176 Louise de La Valli^re 

the same house with her. This latter, though she 
was living at the Castle, possessed a little house at 
Versailles in the Rue de Pompe, which still exists. 
It was not of so much importance as the Brion, 
but more elegant ; and, though originally erected 
to Love, it was to be the scene of strange events. At 
the Revolution it served as a Court of Justice, then 
as a prison, and in 1792 a bloodthirsty populace 
slaughtered a large number of Royalists there. 

At the time of this history^ life in the Rue de 
Pompe was very gay, or apparently so. It was a 
sort of refuge from the common herd. A great deal 
of society gathered therein, including all the ladies 
of rank, who had formerly been disdainful, but were 
now very eager — some quite too much so. Much 
noticed was Mme de Montespan, " such a clever 
woman, so witty, so full of delightful conversation ! " 
La Valli^re, they said, had little of all that, and " clever- 
ness was so necessary to keep the King amused." 



Fran9oise de Montespan belonged to a noble family, 
and compared to her, a La Valli^re was quite a 
commoner. From the old family-tree of Rochechouart 
a branch called Mortemart had sprung — recent, but 
full of strength and vitality. The head of this line, 
who had the honour of being the auxiliary of Richelieu 
against Cinqmars, was father to a boy, Vivonne (the 
friend and favourite of Louis XIV. 's boyish days) and 
of three beautiful, witty daughters, one of them 
strictly virtuous, the other virtuous and coquettish, the 
third haughty and ambitious. Arriving at Court 
in 1 66 1, just twenty years old, this last maiden 
called herself Athenais de Tonnay-Charente, The 
ladies who had flourished in the days of Anne of Austria's 
Regency had always understood that beauties ought 



Louise de La Valli^re i77 

to be charming and graceful, and they considered 
Athena'is chilling and aggressive. She succeeded in 
pleasing some only by wounding others — mockers and 
victims equally being of small account to her. 

When this beauty appeared, the King was in love 
with La Valliere and was proof against the most 
vigorous onsets, while Monsieur had the kind of heart 
that no woman can set alight ! So there was no room 
for her, and, finding none else worthy of surrender, 
the Tonnay-Charente resolved to marry, and out of pique 
became the wife of Montespan. The bride was 
twenty- one, and the bridegroom twenty — the initial 
mistake in this headlong marriage ! 

Montespan was a clever and brilliant man, and 
possessed in the Pyrenees, at Bellegarde, one of those 
perched sort of castles surrounded by a great tract of 
bare rocks. To hear the marriage-contract read, one 
might have imagined that the young pair were going 
to be wise enough to renounce Court-life and seek 
their happiness in the simpler joys of rusticity. M. 
de Mortemart apparently gave one hundred and fifty 
thousand livres as dowry to his daughter, but in reality 
only gave sixty thousand, arranging to pay the rest as 
an annual allowance, which, as is usual in such cases, 
he never did. The painfully doled-out sixty-thousand 
was at once greedily borrowed by Montespan's father 
and mother — they were supposed to pay interest, of 
course ; but the interest, like the allowance, was seldom 
forthcoming. 

The young people were quickly over head and ears in 
debt, and went from bad to worse, only to find them- 
selves at last weighed down by that misery and 
dishonour which so entirely prove the truth of the 
proverb : " When poverty comes in at the door, love 
flies out of the window." They borrowed on all sides, 
and the exquisite Mortemart lady had to sign those 

12 



178 Louise de La Valli^rc 

promissory notes which are among the hideous 
necessities of such a poverty-stricken existence. 

She knew herself to be prettier than any one else, 
and felt herself to be clever enough to deceive husband. 
Queen, favourite — even the King himself ; and yet she 
was condemned to vegetate. What anguish it was ! 
In 1666, Mme de Montespan used to run over to La 
Valliere's house in the afternoons, and talk most de- 
lightfully to her, while in the evenings, she would go 
to the Queen and do the same thing. The most 
objectionable part of it was that she covered her utter 
cynicism with a cloak of virtue, and communicated 
frequently. Dominated by her ambition, untouched 
by religion, this young woman was boldly forcing her 
way upwards, almost to the throne itself — and thus we 
find her in 1666, when the Court left for Fontainebleau. 

Places do not change, but men do. The King's 
notice, so sought after, turned at last towards this 
beauty, who was indeed brilliantly lovely. All the 
young men, as usual (amongst them, the Due de 
Longueville, aged seventeen), were doing their best to 
make the rising star as remarkable as possible. The new 
goddess, " by way of showing the Queen how good 
she was, and intimating to the King that her thoughts 
were only for him, made fun of her lovers (or ' adorers ' 
as they would be called nowadays) and, sitting by the 
Queen's bedside, repeated what each of them had said 
to her." The King was interested in these confidences, 
and one of Mme de Montespan's young admirers, 
thinking that Royalty had some intentions, retired in 
good order — the phrase is his own. Soon all the 
others imitated him. It was just what Brienne and 
Guiche had done in the same Palace, in 1661. 

Mme de Montespan was then in full beauty. Two 
years older than Louise de La Valli^re, she looked 
four years younger. Though she was the mother of 



Louise de La Valli^re 179 

two boys, one would never have guessed her to be a 
married woman, for she seemed like a young girl — one 
of that curious type which it is so hard to describe, 
for one cannot be sure if *' na'i've " or " provocative " 
is the right word. With a superb air of self-confident 
virtue, she displayed the most brilliant attractions of 
mind and body, yet she did not trust in these alone ; ^ 
for while every one recognised in her the coming 
favourite, she was, all the while, consulting magicians 
and sorceresses. 

Like Mme de Soissons, she went to la Voisin, and 
begged for the help of her witchcraft against La 
Valliere. The palmist was not surprised. For some 
time, people " from all parts " had been soliciting her 
assistance against the same lady. Powerful people of 
high rank '*were compounding with the devil by 
compacts sealed with their own blood, to dethrone 
Mile de La Valliere from her exalted position, and to 
take her place with the King." These are the exact 
words of one of this villainous woman's companions. 

All that follows is taken from a long and minute 
judicial examination, which was conducted by an 
honourable and clear-sighted man. Later on, Royal 
authority wished to wipe out all trace of these horrible 
superstitions ; but the truth is clear enough, and 
has come down to the present day. It has been 
proved that many ladies inquired of Voisin how to 
please the King. The sinister garden of Villeneuve- 
sur-Gravois was visited by Mme de La Motte, who 
wished to be loved by Louis and, as a side-issue, to 
get rid of her lover, D'Albret. (The poor man was 
destined anyhow to an unfortunate end, for he was 
killed by M. de La Motte's servants in the Castle 
of Pinon, in Picardy.) Thither came also Mme de 
Grammont {nee Hamilton), and Mme de Polignac, 

^ See the beautiful portrait engraved by Picard. 



i8o Louise dc La Valli^re 

(nee du Roure), the latter hardly twenty-five years old, 
and bent upon the downfall of La Valliere. She gave 
four pistoles — about two hundred francs in modern 
money — for the consultation . M . de Polignac, it appears, 
knew of the "intention of Madame his wife to 
establish relations with the King." What he did not 
know was her further wish to get rid of him, and 
that "for this relief" she would have paid more than 
four pistoles. This young person did not, however, 
intend to find herself destitute all at once, for she 
begged of the sorceress the continuation of the friend- 
ship {ramitie) of M. le Comte du Lude, of M. le 
Vicomte de I'Arbouste, and of M. d'Oradour ! 

There appeared yet another suppliant who wished 
to be admired by the King, and who, to make room 
for herself, suggested poisoning La Valliere. But it 
would be necessary to be a Voisin not to feel horrified 
at such a request from such a source, for this last 
chent was the d'Artigny, then Comtesse du Roure, 
worthy sister-in-law of Mme de Polignac. The 
abominable creature longed to bite with poisoned 
teeth the hand which had helped her. To this rich 
clientele add Mme de Montespan, and it is easy to 
see that though Voisin's husband had lost his work, 
she was in a fair way to get plenty of custom. 

She was well-satisfied ; and yet she had to submit 
to competition which she called treacherous. She had 
been too confidential with her brothers-in-art, and they 
were steahng away her custom. In spite of the 
wonderful knowledge "which God had given her," our 
conscientious artist thought it well sometimes to invite 
the help of other learned folk. There were three in 
particular : the first, a Parisian of the Parish of Saint- 
Eustache, named Etienne Guibourg, was then about 
fifty-six ; he described himself as the natural son of 
that M. de Montmorency who had been executed at 



Louise de La Valliere i8i 

Toulouse. First a priest at Paris, then at Saint-Spire 
de Corbeil, then Almoner to the Comte de Mont- 
gommery in the Castle of Villebousin, we find him 
now at Versailles, where he officiated in the Chapel 
of Buisson and at Saint-Denis, as a priest belonging 
to the Church of Saint-Marcel, The outspoken 
cure of Saint-Denis strongly recommended him 
not to associate with certain persons suspected of 
magic — but to no purpose. Sorcerer and artistic 
poisoner as he was, clever at all kinds of witchcraft, 
having known La Boissiere, one *of Sainte-Croix' 
pupils, and even Sainte-Croix himself (the operator 
of La Brinvilliers) — Guibourg, friend and accomplice 
of la Voisin and la Filastre, had fallen twenty years 
before under the spell of another female poisoner, and 
had had several children by her, nearly all of whom 
he had made away with. His appearance was worthy 
of his trade. He had a very ruddy complexion, and 
the most appalling squint. He was called the Prior, 
either because he had obtained the Priory of Bois- 
Courtilz, near Mont Saint-Michel, or, more probably, 
because any one, with the offer of a bribe, could start 
him off at once upon the most execrable prayers. 

A little younger than Guibourg, and of very good 
family on his mother's side, was the second of la 
Voisin's collaborators, Francois Mariette, priest of 
Saint-Severin. He also had a mistress, la Leroux, a 
professional poisoner. His sister, named Chapelle, 
was not much better than he was, Mariette undertook 
to dispose of all inconvenient children. His family 
lived in the suburbs of Montlh6ry — a rather important 
detail in this history. 

The trio was completed by one Lesage, called 
du Buisson, though his real name was Coeuret, a man 
of about thirty-eight, belonging to Venoix, near Caen.-^ 

* M. Ravaisson says first: born at Vernon, Normandy {Archives 



1 82 Louise de La Valliferc 

Ostensibly a wool-merchant, in reality he sold mole- 
powders and all sorts of extraordinary things. Though 
he had left a wife in Normandy, he tried to enter 
the family of la Desmarets, a person of the same kind 
as la Voisin. Refused, after inquiries had been made 
by a prudent mother, his thoughts turned towards 
la Voisin herself, a wanton of thirty, married, it is 
true, but who might become a widow. Very cunningly, 
this low Norman pretended to know nothing about 
making powders — only where they could be bought. 
He was no artist, no wizard of even white magic ; 
merely a scoundrel of the lowest type.^ 

From la Voisin's hands Mme de Montespan quickly 
passed to those of her accomplices. From chiromancy 
she fled to magic, and from magic to sorcery. La 
Voisin looked a little at the hand and much into the 
eyes, quickly caught up the slightest hint, and then gave 
love-powders. These powders were passed under the 
chalice by the priest Mariette, and the magician Lesage 
uttered most magic words over them. That was very 
impressive, but it was nothing compared to a certain 
Mass which only Guibourg could say. 

Now, amongst Mme de Montespan's ladies-in-waiting 
was a young lady named Desoeillets, intimately con- 
nected with one Le Roy, Governor of the Pages 
of the Petite Ecurie. Le Roy possessed a house in 

de la Bastille, v. IV. p. ii); but later, says at Genons, near Caen 
(v. V. p. 285). We ought to read ; Venoix Parish, in the District 
of Caen. The name Coeuret is still common in the country. I have 
tried to find the baptismal certificate of Coeuret, but unfortunately the 
Parish registers of Venoix do not go beyond the eighteenth century. 
I owe this information to the kindness of my excellent master, 
M. Charles Marie, Senior Professor of Caen College. 

^ That Voltaire, in Le Steele de Louis XIV., should have called 
Lesage Abbe is a very pardonable mistake. It is less easy to explain 
how M. Clement, who had in his own hands all the documents of 
the proceedings, speaks of the Abbe Lesage, Almoner of the House 
of Montmorency. See Police sous Louis XIV., p. 180. He has 
confused Lesage with Guibourg, and Montgommery with Montmorency. 



Louise de La Valli^re 183 

the hamlet of Mesnil, quite close to the Castle of 
Villebousin,^ where Guibourg had lived as Almoner 
to Montgommery. Le Mesnil and Villebousin bordered 
upon Villiers, which was lorded over by M. d'Aubray, 
(father of the Marquise de Brinvilliers), who died 
of poison this very year. The Marquise went from 
time to time to Villiers, where she employed a clever 
gardener to look after her plants. Exili and Sainte- 
Croix had been there.^ 

The Castle, a fourteenth-century building, was very 
well chosen for these dark incantations. Situated about 
half a mile from Paris on the road to Orleans, it was 
easy to get at. Surrounded by deep moats filled with 
running water, it was easy to hide in also. So 
Villebousin was, selected as the scene of a diabolical 
ceremony which was finally to tear Louise de La 
Valliere from the heart of a king already unfaithful 
enough. Le Roy, strange Governor of Pages ! was 
sent to Saint-Denis to make terms with Guibourg, 
whom he had been soliciting for more than a year. 
He promised him fifty pistoles^ and a premium of 
2,000 livres. The despicable creature would have 
done his part for ten ecus. On the day fixed, he was 

* Villebousin, a hamlet in the parish of Longpont, District of Long- 
jumeau (Seine-et-Oise). The Castle belonged to the Comte de Mont- 
gommery. Lebeuf, Histoire du diocese de Paris, v. X. p. 139. Notice 
sur la pm'oisse de Longpont. — Pinard, Histoire archeologique du 
canton de Longjumeati, p. 199. It refers to Fran9ois de Montgommery, 
great-grandson of Gabriel de Montgommery, beheaded in 1574- He 
married Marie-Louise of Brisson, a lady of Villebousin, whose ancestors 
possessed this domain for a long time. 

- Dreux d'Aubray and Antoine d'Aubray had taken the title of 
Lords of Villiers. L'Abb6 Lebeuf writes that Villiers belonged to the 
Marquise de Brinvilliers. " They even say that it was there she 
made up her poisons." Histoire du diocese de Paris, v. X. p. 139. 
L'Abbe Lebeuf was well informed. See Mme de Briancourt's deposition 
at the trial of La Brinvilliers. " The lady told her that she had a 
country house named Villiers, where she often went, and that La 
Chausee was a clever business-man, who might become her gardener 
at Villiers " {Archives de la Bastille, v. IV. p. 201). 



184 Louise de La Valliere 

to go to Villebousin from his side ; Mme de Montespan 
and " a tall creature " were to go from theirs, accom- 
panied by Le Roy and another person whose name 
was not mentioned, but who was to pass as one of 
the gentlemen of the Archbishop of Sens. 

There was a chapel in the Castle, well known to 
Guibourg. On a day arranged by them, a young 
woman was laid upon the altar. According to the 
sacrilegious rite, she ought to have been entirely naked ; 
but, in a last spasm of decency, she uncovered only 
certain parts of her body. A turned-down hood 
hid her face and breasts. When the altar was thus 
prepared, and the candles lighted, Guibourg entered. 
He put a white napkin upon the naked body, and 
placed the chalice thereon. The Mass began, and was 
carried out in all its ceremonies, even to the kiss 
given usually by the celebrant to the altar-steps, 
but pressed this time upon the woman's shuddering 
flesh by the loathsome Guibourg. At the consecra- 
tion, obscenity was replaced by horror. Usually, they 
were content to offer some abortion as a sacrifice ; 
but this time they did everything in the grand style, 
and it was a little living child that the " tall creature," 
the Marquise's assistant, offered to the sorcerer. He 
had bought the little one for an ecu^ saying to the 
mother — reduced to such necessity ! — that it was to be 
taken to another woman who was in need of an infant 
at the breast. The officiating priest then delivered 
this incantation : " Astaroth and Asmodeus, Princes 
of friendship and love, I conjure you to accept this 
child in sacrifice for those things I would ask of you. 
I conjure you, O Spirits ! whose names are in these 
written papers, to attend to the wishes and plans of 
the person for whom this Mass is celebrated." Then 
the woman lying upon the altar stated her desire : 
" I ask for the love of the King, and that I may obtain 



Louise de la Valli^re 185 

from him all that I want for myself and my relations, 
that all my dependants may be pleasing to him, that 
he may forsake La Valliere and never see her again," -^ 

The incantation over, Guibourg cut the child's 
throat with a penknife, and poured the blood into the 
chalice. The innocent victim was carried away, but 
soon his heart and entrails were brought back to be 
offered as a second oblation, and then to be calcined 
and reduced to powder for the use of Louis de 
Bourbon.^ That Mortemart's daughter, witty and in- 
tellectual as she was, believed in the occult powers 
of these scoundrels, is beyond question.^ But how 
could she, so arrogant in her haughty beauty, display 
herself before these blackguards ! Yet all records say 
so, and we can only hope that some member of the 
cabal acted as substitute in the name of the Marquise. 

All this happened in the year 1666,^ at the time 
when, in the daytime, Mme de Montespan amused the 

' La Reynie seems to have been deeply struck by Guiboiirg's 
account. His whole text was apparently written and added to many 
times. In 1666, Mme de Montespan asked for nothing but La 
Valliere 's downfall {Archives de la Bastille^. 

"- Guibourg confessed to the sacrifice of five children {Archives de 
la Bastille, v. VL p. 433). 

* These accounts were given from memory by several of the accused, 
who were confused as regards dates, for the Montespan had had re- 
course to these abominable practices for ten years. La Reynie saw 
clearly that these rogues, both male and female, could not, as isolated 
persons, have reproduced these invocations unless they had heard 
them many times repeated. Lemoine and Lichtenberger, De La 
Valliere a Montespan, p. 185, look upon the incantation as ridiculous 
in its phraseology, but we need only refer to books of magic. It is the 
true style of the trade and its clientele. 

* La Reynie, summing up all the informations, says : "As to the three 
Masses with sacrifices, the date is not fixed. Guibourg does not know 
it, but, so far as one can gather from the circumstances, the date of 
these first Masses was probably, for the solicitation, 1665 : and for the 
execution at Mesnil, 1666" {Archives de la Bastille, v. VI. p. 434). 
La Reynie adds : " Remarkable details were, the long solicitations of 
Le Roy, Governor of the Pages of the Petite Ecurie, and of the 
Gentleman of the Archbishop of Sens, by Mme de Montespan." 
Finally, he sums up and finds Mme de Montespan guilty, p. 436. 



1 86 Louise de La Valli^re 

King at La Valliere's house, while in the evenings 
she went to tell the Queen that she had spent the 
morning at Holy Mass. 

Returning to the month of May, 1666, we find the 
incantations still going on. The charms worked suc- 
cessfully ; the Montespan could not doubt that. There 
was nothing but praise of Athenai's. Without her 
help, every one declared that La Valliere was incap- 
able of " amusing the King." It was getting serious. 
La Grande Mademoiselle, always on the look-out for a 
chance of being disagreeable, added : " If La Valliere 
had had any sense, she would have made friends with 
some lady whose beauty and personal charms were 
not equal to her intellect." 

What a mistake ! and indeed it was not until long 
afterwards that Mademoiselle understood the situation. 
Louise had not the subtlety of a Mortemart. Devoid 
of all worldly ambition, she continued to love without 
a thought of mistrust. She was assuredly the last 
to hear (if she ever did at that time), the reports 
which rumour was circulating broadcast, that her 
marriage was to be arranged, that she was to be made 
Duchesse d'Aumale, and that the cleverer people saw 
in this " signs of withdrawal and change." This plan 
was not carried out, either because of some return of 
tenderness, or because of a circumstance which rendered 
such a course useless or premature. One of the two 
children whom Louis had had by La Valliere was 
dead, but the other was alive, and this strong living 
bond (now that all ties of love were losing their in- 
fluence over him), held imperious obligations for the 
King. Besides, he loved the little boy, who, it seems, 
was very like him ; he often went to see him at the 
Tuileries, where he was being brought up. Towards 
the end of July the child died, quite suddenly.^ 

' See D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 463 (July 29). Mademoiselle 



Louise dc La Valli^re 187 

Colbert hastened to Fontainebleau to make all 
necessary arrangements ; for the poor mother, who 
never had the joy of rocking her babies in the cradle, 
was not even allowed the consolation of being by their 
death-beds. On the contrary, the festivities went on 
as usual, and she was obliged to go to them. The 
Court had accepted the favourite, and were determined 
to make her pay for it. 

Of maternity Louise knew nothing except the 
moral and physical suffering. At her son's death, she 
had to hide her tears, as well as the fact that she was 
again pregnant, which might have been a consolation 
for any other mother, but which caused her only one 
more torment. 

Indeed, three months had scarcely gone by after this 
sorrow, before Louise, who was v/ith the Court at the 
Castle of Vincennes,^ was seized by the pangs of child- 
birth. These Palaces had been built only with a view 
to public life and gaiety ; even the rooms were fitted 
up like reception-rooms, in which it would be utterly 
out of place to be ill or sad. That occupied by the 
unfortunate mistress of the King was actually public : 
it served as a passage to the State-apartments ! 

It was here she had to lie up, send for the doctor, 
and restrain her meanings so that her shame might not 
be discovered. Suddenly the door opened ; some one 
came in. La Valliere recognised her former mistress 
and rival, Madame Henriette — Madame, who may 

{Memoires, v. IV.) says that the child died of fright from a thunder-clap. 
She makes the silly remark that such nervousness was not worthy 
of a King's son. Ormesson says that Mile de La Valliere had already 
lost a boy and a girl. Colbert and Mile de Montpensier always 
speak of two boys. The daughter then must have been born towards 
the end of 1665, and at that time Louise was still appearing at Court. 
It is a libel, composed before 1666, that speaks of a daughter of La 
Valliere. 

1 The Court had just settled down at Vincennes on August 19, 1666. 
They stayed here until October 9 {Gazette de France). 



1 88 Louise de La Valliere 

have forgotten the past, but who nevertheless saw in 
one flash the state of affairs. " Ah, Madame ! I am 
dying of colic ! " And when Henriette had passed 
on, " Be quick," she cried to Boucher ; '* I want it 
to be all over before she comes back." 

In her former experiences, she had been able to 
keep her child for at least a few hours. But this time 
a little girl was only just born when, stifling her cries, 
they carried her away. It was said (and although 
they come from a suspect source, these details are 
admissible) that the child once safe. La Valliere, 
feeling no longer responsible except for her own life, 
made an heroic sacrifice for the Queen's sake. Wish- 
ing to conceal from her Sovereign the injury she had 
done her in her own Palace, Louise ordered her room 
to be filled with plants and flowers, without caring in 
the least about the deadly eff^ect of their emanations 
upon a woman in her condition ; then dressed herself 
fully, received the visitors, played cards, and partook 
of medianoche in the evening. This second torture, 
worse than the first, lasted for twelve hours ! ^ 

And there was another worry to brood over in 
silence. Louis, who hitherto at the supreme moment 
had contrived to be near, was not present. Having 
started that morning for Versailles, he visited, on 
the way back, a French lace-manufactory in the Rue 
Quincampoix, where he bought beautiful presents 
" for the ladies." 

1 Gazette de France, October, 1666. The little daughter born at 
Vincennes (October 2, 1669), was called Marie-Anne, afterwards Mile 
de Blois, 



THIRD PART 

1667 — 1674 



189 



CHAPTER I 

JANUARY, 1667 JUNE, 1667 

THE end of this year 1666 and the beginning of 
1667 beheld a great transformation in the 
character of Louis XIV. It had begun directly 
after his mother's death. Anne of Austria had a 
horror of war ; Louis, on the contrary, desired it. 
Those military triumphs which had signalised his 
minority he could scarcely regard as his own.^ What 
he wanted was a more actual thing : the glory of 
conquests and victories, personally won. Ever since 
he had definitely begun to reign, he had bestowed 
great attention on the reorganisation of his army, but 
this had been done, so to speak, " on the quiet." He 
had acted without saying anything — sometimes indeed 
he had said one thing while all the while he was 
doing another, so desirous was he of attracting no 
attention from rival powers. But from 1666 onwards, 
he changed his tactics : he dissimulated less, he began 
those inspections of his troops which made the Dutch 
Gazettes speak of him as a " Reviewer." At Saint- 
Germain, Fontainebleau, Vincennes, reviews figured 
largely in all festivities. As he could not inspect his 
troops unless they were assembled, nor assemble them 
without the knowledge of the public, Louis thought 
it well to invest these serious occasions with an appear- 

* Monglat most adroitly conveys this idea of the King. See 
Memoires, p. 358, Michaud Collection. See also Guy-Patin, Lettres, 
V. III. pp. 218, 219, 220. 

191 



192 Louise de La Valli^re 

ance of frivolity. The ladies, for instance, rode to 
them en amazones ; scarves decked the cuirasses, ribbons 
fluttered round the weapons. . . And in pursuance 
of the same design, the King intended the autumn and 
winter entertainments to be magnificent. 

Louise de La Valliere, only just recovered from her 
confinement, was swept into the whirl again. On 
October i, the Court left Vincennes for Saint-Germain, 
there to rehearse the steps and figures for a new 
ballet — the ballet of the Muses — which was danced at 
Paris (January 2, 1667).^ Benserade surpassed himself 
in delicate, subtle topical allusions, hitting oflF every 
one to perfection. 

First the King : 

" Ce berger n'est jamais sans quelque chose a faire, 
Et jamais rien de bas n'occupe son loisir, 

Soit plaisir, soit affaire ; 
Mais I'affaire toujours va devant le plaisir. 

La saison est passee, 
Ou les bergers dormoient sur la foi de leurs chiens. 
Paissez, brebis, pendant qu'il s'apprete a detruire 
Avec tant de viguenr tous les loups, s'il en vient, 

Et laissez-vous conduire 
A qui s^ait mieux que vous tout ce qui vous convient." 

Madame Henriette entered next, and the poet said : 

" Elle vous prend d'abord, vous entraine, vous tue, 
Vous pille jusqu'a Tame ; et puis, apres cela, 
Sans etre 6mue, 
Vous laisse la. 

Telle erreur devroit etre excusable et legdre, 
Qui trompe les plus fins et leur fait presumer 



^ 1667. Jan. 2nd, ballet interrupted by the Queen's accouchement ; 
5th, pastoral ballet ; 6th, promenade at Versailles ; 8th-ioth, ballet of the 
Muses ; 12th, ballet at Paris (Madame) ; 22nd, review at Houilles ; 24th, 
ball at Versailles ; 25th, ballet of Muses ; 30th, grand ball at the new 
Castle of Saint-Germain; 31st, ballet oi Muses ; Feb. 4th, review; 
5th, 14th, i6th, 19th, ballet of Muses; 20th to 28th, Carnival at 
Versailles. 



Louise de La Valliere 19: 

Qu'etant berg^re, 
On peut I'aimer. 



Le meilleur sort 
Qui s'en ensuive 
Est d'etre mort." 



Would it be possible to evoke more daringly the 
exiled Guiche and Vardes ! 

The spectators had hardly recovered from the 
surprise of these transparent allusions before Mme de 
Montespan appeared as a shepherdess. 

In the ballet of the Naissance de Venus (1665) the 
Marquise '''■figured'''' an hour on a "well-regulated" 
clock. But in 1667, Benserade changed his tone, and 
ventured to be a little impertinent : 

" Elle est prompte a la fuite 
Et garde une conduite 
Dont chacun est surpris ; 
Mais nous en avons pris 
Qui tenoient meme route, 
Et nous serions sans doute 
Au comble du bonheur, 
N'etoit son chien d'honneur : 
Ce mot pourra d^plaire : 
Mais qui sfaurions-nous faire ? " 

It is at least doubtful that the Marquis de Montespan 
was pleased by " this word ! " 

Quite differently was Mile de La Valliere's entrance 
celebrated : 

"Jeune bergere en qui le del a mis 
Tout ce qu'il donne a ses meilleurs amis, 
De la beaute, du coeur, de la sagesse, 
Et, si j'en crois vos yeux, de la tendresse, 

Vous me semblez I'ornement du hameau, 
Et j'aime a voir dans un objet si beau, 
Parfaitement I'une a I'autre assortie, 
Et tant de gloire, et tant de modestie." 

This was the last homage publicly offered to Louise, 
At the end, the poet made one of his wonderful 
allusions : 

13 



194 Louise de La Valli^re 

" Que vous peut-on souhaiter et quel bien ? 
Je croy qu'il faut ne vous souhaiter rien. 
L'on ne S9auroit croistre un bonheur extreme, 
Et pour tout dire, enfin, que sfay-je mesme 
Si, meritant tant de prosperitez, 
Vous n'avez point ce que vous m^ritez ? " 

And when Mile de La Valliere's dance was over, 
the King went and stood beside her. Assuredly no 
one could have dreamed, that day, that all the Powers 
of Evil had been invoked against our shepherd and 
our shepherdess ! And as there is no winter without 
some smiling days, so love does not die without some 
returning moments of its old beauty. Louise could 
still believe in the King's constancy. He gave her 
unequivocal proofs of his love. At this time his 
wife, Marie- rherese, was pregnant, and was keeping 
her room. Indefatigable Louis — husband and lover 
both ! — went on dancing all the same. On January 2, 
he was ready dressed for the stage when he heard 
that the Queen was in travail ; he had only just time 
to change to ordinary clothes and hasten to her side. 

As the crowning glory of the Carnival, great 
festivities were coming off at Versailles. Tables were 
prepared for all " masks " who should present them- 
selves ; and the courtiers vied with the Sovereign in 
extravagance. Yet, despite these inducements, not 
more than three or four carriages came from Paris. 
The Gazettes declared, in prose and verse, that there 
were enormous crowds ; but the King, who knew the 
truth, was vexed that " nobody came to see his 
splendour." And masquerades were ceasing in Paris 
too, " but few people being festively inclined." The 
truth was that, beneath the mask, the public had 
caught a glimpse of the serious state of affairs. 
Louis was in bellicose mood. And six years had not 
been long enough to efface the public memory of those 
terrible wars : what if they should begin again, as the 



Louise de La Valliere 195 

result of that Spanish marriage, too-fragile bond of 
peace? The only hope lay in Colbert. Colbert, all 
for economy as he was known to be, would be sure 
to oppose military expenses — and so, in fact, Colbert 
did. But his resistance was feeble. Louis, supreme 
master at home, now craved for domination abroad. 

In his diplomatic despatches, Louis XIV. assumed the 
part of a careful husband visiting Flanders to arrange 
a perfectly indubitable " succession " for his wife, but 
in reality he expected a sharp tussle before he got 
it,^ Nor did the prospect displease him ; he felt as 
excited as if it had been his first campaign. Once 
Lent was over, and the last factitious joys of Shrove 
Tuesday had died away, there commenced a sort of 
vigil of arms. . . He was just twenty-seven, he had 
a tradition of bravery behind him and a keen desire 
to carry it on, he was " resolute to be in the thick 
of the danger," and now he began to ponder deeply 
and fervently on the thought of death, and to meditate 
a change in his private life. Hitherto a free-thinker, 
or at any rate a laggard at Confession (so much so 
that only his outward conformity remained), Louis, 
at the Easter of 1667, communicated "in his Parish 
Church." ^ Very probably it was as a consequence 
of this '' almost death-bed " conversion that he at last 
resolved on something which he had been meditating 
for a year — something which enormously intrigued the 
Court, and Paris, and even Europe. 



On Saturday, May 1 3, the Parliament in full assembly 
— and, next day, the Chambre des comptes — were advised 

' See C. RoussET, Histoire de Louvozs, v. I. p. 99. The eminent 
historian gives an admirable account of the situation in law and in fact. 

* "At the hands of szeur Fiot, his ordinary Almoner" {Gazette de 
France, 1667, April 9, p. 367). 



196 Louise de La Valli^re 

of Letters-Patent (already registered) : such Letters- 
Patent as had been unknown for jfifty years. 

" Louis, by the Grace of God King of France and 
Navarre, to all present and to come, greeting. 

" Those benefits which Kings confer in their Realms 
being the outward mark of the merit of those who 
receive them, and the most glorious eulogy which such 
can enjoy, We have considered that We cannot better 
publicly express the very high esteem in which We 
hold the person of Our dear and well-beloved and 
very loyal Louise de La Valli^re than by conferring 
upon her the loftiest honours which a very special 
affection, awakened in Our heart by an infinity of 
rare perfections, has for some years suggested to Us 
as desirable. And, although her modesty has frequently 
opposed Our wish to raise her sooner to a rank more 
proportionate with Our esteem and with her own good 
qualities. We now feel that Our affection and our 
sense of justice permit Us no longer to defer these 
tributes of our gratitude to a merit so well-known to 
Us, nor to refuse an outlet to Our tenderness for 
Marie- Anne, Our natural daughter. In the person 
of her mother. We have procured for and assigned 
to her the estate of Vaujours, situated in Lorraine, 
and the Barony of Saint-Christophe in Anjou — both 
equally rich in revenues and tenures ; 

" But, reflecting that Our favour would be incomplete 
if We did not enhance the value of these properties 
by a title at once conformable to Our esteem and to 
her merit — and remembering also that Our dear and 
well-beloved Louise de La Valliere is descended from 
a very noble and very ancient House, whose ancestors 
have on several important occasions given signal 
proofs of their zeal for the good and advantage of 
our State, and also of their talent and experience in the 
command of armies. . ." 



Louise de La Valliere i97 

Follows the formula for the creation of a duche- 
pairie, " to be enjoyed by the said Damoiselle Louise- 
Fran^oise de La Valliere, and, after her decease, by 
Marie-Anne, Our said daughter, her heirs and descend- 
ants both male and female, born in wedlock. . ." 
And the Letters ended in a clause of reversion of 
property : " Further, as Our Crown is the source of 
all favours, and as, that being so, such favours ought 
rightly to revert to it. We also desire that in case of 
the decease of Marie-Anne, Our daughter, without 
children or other descendants male or female, either 
before or after her mother^ the property in this Duchy 
shall be preserved intact to the said Damoiselle Louise- 
Frangoise de La Valliere, but on the condition that she 
cannot dispose of it, and that after her death, it and 
all its component parts shall revert to Our Crown, and 
that her heirs, successors, and assigns, other than 
Marie-Anne Our daughter, or the children descending 
from that daughter, whom We have declared and now 
declare legitimate and capable of all civil honours and 
effects, shall have no claim upon it whatsoever, either 
as titular heirs or in any other capacity of any sort 
or kind." 

The mere perusal of the official report of the 
Parliamentary Sitting shows us that the affair was 
arranged and accepted beforehand : " On the motion 
of the Attorney-General on the debate (the Court) 
agrees and orders that the said Letters shall be registered 
at its Record-office, to be executed according to their 
form and tenor." ^ 

Posterity has been more scandalised by this act of 

^ The text of the Letters has been most accurately given by P^re 
Anselme, and less accurately by P6re Clement, Reflexions sur la 
misericorde, v. II. p. 208. We insist on this point, because M. 
Clement's book has been frequently copied, and no heed paid to these 
errors. The book is otherwise very conscientiously done, as was all 
M, Clement's work. 



19^ Louise de La Valli^re 

authority than contemporaries were, including even 
Marie-Th6rese ; and that is because posterity knows 
of later acts of the same description, only infinitely more 
odious. For whereas we perceive to-day only a scandal 
and the victory of passion over decency, in 1667 people 
saw a beginning of better things, such as a return to 
orderly conduct, or at the very least a reaction from 
disorder, and, as it were, the redemption of a youthful 
error. The King had told the Queen that he would 
settle down at thirty — and now it seemed that he was 
a year in advance of his promise. 

We have no desire to represent the legitimation of a 
natural child, born in adultery, as an excessively edifying 
proceeding, but we must point out that the declaration 
in these Letters-Patent is made with a certain degree of 
reticence. Compare it with the effrontery of Henri IV., 
for example : " We say and proclaim that C6sar is our 
natural son, and that we have legitimated and do now 
legitimate him, and have conferred and do now confer 
upon him this title and honour of legitimacy by these 
presents." ^ Louis was one day to imitate the ancestral 
hardihood ; but, before he reached that stage, six years 
of adulation and false passion were necessary.^ In 
1667, though he might already regard himself as the 
incarnation of the laws of his country, he still retained 
some respect for his own omnipotence. It was a kind 
of conscientiousness, as it were.^ And Louis himself 
has made the meaning of these Letters quite clear in the 
Memoires which he dictated for the Dauphin. " Having 
no intention of keeping out of danger when I was 
with the Army, I thought it right to ensure to this 

^ Letters of legitimation for Cesar de Vendome, January, 1595. 
Recueil des pieces pour et centre les princes legitimes, v. III. p. 81. 

* See legitimation of the Due du Maine. Recueil, v. II. p. 372. 

3 " Bastardy can hold up its head henceforth," says M. Dreyss, in 
his Introduction to the Memoires de Louis XIV,, p. 106. Nearly all 
modern historians have judged this trait erroneously. 



Louise de La Valliere 199 

child the honours of her parentage, and to give the 
mother an estabhshment suitable to the affection I had 
felt towards her for six years." There is the true 
truth. War, with all its solemnity, had proved to be 
the one revelation for our Royal egotist. Louise had 
almost nothing that could be called her own, except 
her jewels. Before May 14, her daughter had no 
name but Marie-Anne, and, having no legal life, was 
incapable of any inheritance.-^ After the publication of 
these Letters, Louise became a Duchess, and Marie- 
Anne had the right to be called La VaUiere.^ As to 
the incomes of the Duchy, which were worth a hundred 
thousand francs a year, the original Letters settled them 
exclusively on the King's daughter. Nothing could be 
clearer than that the lawyer was thinking only of 
the Royal offspring. She alone was proprietress of 
Vaujours, the usufruct of which only reverted to the 
mother if her daughter died, and died childless.^ 

The Letters of 1667 say truly that Louise, in her 
modesty, had rather avoided than solicited the Royal 
favours. The poor lady had no idea of what was now 
being done. The estate of Vaujours, which the King 
was supposed to be giving her, was unknown to her 
even by name. One of Colbert's numerous provincial 
agents, always on the watch for bargains, had doubtless 
bought it sub rosa. There is convincing proof of this. 
The deed of purchase bears indeed the same date 

^ Jurisprudence had grown very rigid about bastards. See Recueil 
general des pieces touch ant V affaire des princes legitimes et legitimes^ 
V. III. p. 244. 

^ M. Dreyss {I.e. p. 6) says erroneously that Marie-Anne was thence- 
forth called Mademoiselle de Blois. She only received this title later. 
We must add that the contemporary writer, Pellisson, also made a 
mistake about this (Histoire de Louis XIV., v. II. p. 149). 

^ We have gathered this curious fact— the hesitation in the King's 
mind and in Colbert's — solely from an analysis of the Letters-Patent. 
A contemporary account, which we know only in manuscript, affirms that 
there were two Letters- Patent. If that is so, we have only the second 
edition. One would like to verify the point, if it were possible. 



200 Louise de La Valliere 

as the Letters of Legitimation — but the date is fictitious. 
The index to the notary's papers still exists. And 
the mention of the deed was inserted — afterwards} 

The new Duchess's first feeling was not pride, but 
shame. Had she not, at Vincennes, when but newly 
arisen from child-bed, risked her life to save her 
reputation } — and now here was her error published, 
registered in perpetuity ! But imagine her distress, 
her amazement, her grief, when reflection — or the cruel 
kindness of a friend ? — revealed the true meaning of 
the Royal, written words : when she realised that, 
turned into a Duchess and proclaimed the mother of 
a King's daughter, she had no less publicly lost the 
love of the father of her child ! Even if she had tried 
to deceive herself about these Letters, in which Louis, 
so liberal towards the child, almost neglected the 
mother's interests, the whole Court would quickly have 
let her know that she was forsaken. Almost imme- 
diately after they were made public, her retirement was 
also announced : she was to go to Fontainebleau " and 
there await the King's orders." And there was fresh 
talk of marrying her. 'Twas said that Vardes, her 
old enemy, had obtained his pardon, and that his 
return was the prelude to his marrying the repudiated 
mistress, now enriched and titled. . . In such critical 
moments, past events, hitherto disregarded or misread, 
suddenly take a new and unmistakable significance. 
Louise remembered that her brother had been appointed 
Brigadier-General, that her uncle had been given the 
Bishopric of Nantes — and other marks of Royal favour 
were similarly transformed into sad and certain symptoms 
of abandonment. For in such fashion do the great dismiss 
their servants when these have ceased to please them. 

1 The index exists in the office of M. Vassal, a Paris notary. Le 
Fouin, to whom this office belonged in 1667, was Notary to the King ; 
he probably owed his position to Mazarin's influence. 







After the picture by G. Edelinck. 



LOUISE DE LA VALLI£:RE. 



Louise de La Valli^re 201 

And moreover, think of the moment which this 
master, King, lover, sole conqueror of her heart, had 
selected for the announcement of the rupture ! The 
unhappy woman knew that once again the Royal blood 
had mingled with her own to form another Royal 
bastard. Did the King know it ? The King knew it ; 
and, while he conferred legal existence upon Marie- 
Anne, he seemed quite to forget her mother — and was 
not such oblivion the very disowning beforehand of 
this last pledge of their love ? Inevitably we pore 
over that clause in the Letters-Patent which ordains 
that the Duchy shall revert to La Valliere in case of 
the pre-decease of her daughter, " but that her heirs, 
[that is, Louise's] successors, and assigns, other than 
Marie-Anne . . . shall have no claim upon it whatso- 
ever." What ! the girl a Duchess well-endowed — 
and the boy a miserable bastard ! 

But the master had spoken. He had ordered an 
equipage for the Duchess, and now desired that she 
should display her new honours in the Queen's own 
carriage. Marie-Therese, pitiful of misfortune, and 
credulous enough to believe in the Royal repentance, 
showed a new kindness towards the forsaken creature. 
She regarded this duche-pairie as a symbol of rupture. 
And that very knowing young woman. La Grande 
Mademoiselle, cleverly delineated the consequence of 
the legitimation of Marie-Anne : '*We shall hear of 
no more babies ! . . ." No more babies ! And La 
Valliere had been pregnant for five months. 

From May 14 to 24, the poor lady followed 
the Court " as a Duchess," and every day brought 
the definite separation nearer. The King would soon 
be setting off at the head of his Army, to risk his 
life without having made any provision for the coming 
child. The Army was to march on the 24th, and on 
that date, there is a letter signed by Louise, and 



202 Louise de La Valli^re 

addressed to Mme de Montausier, her old friend, then 
Superintendent of the Queen's household. Did the 
new Duchess actually write this letter ? We cannot 
be sure ; but there is no doubt at all that it accurately 
represents the state of her mind. 

^' May 24, 1667. 

" Madame, 

*^ The new anxieties caused by my new grandeur 
render so impossible to me that tranquil state of 
mind in which I had hoped to encounter it, that (as 
I can no longer conceal from myself how uneasy I 
feel), I have resolved to appeal to your friendship 
and to impart to you — hoping that it may reUeve 
my mind — the reflections I have lately been making. 

" Kindly-disposed masters, when they are parting 
with their servants, are accustomed to pay them their 
wages before they dismiss them — or at any rate to 
make some recognition of their services. I fear that 
this is just what is happening to me. The King, with 
this great honour, hopes to induce me to go quietly 
by feeding my vanity — so that, ambition conquering 
love, I may endure my shame with greater fortitude. 
Very well I know that good fortune has its limits 
beyond which one cannot hope to reach, and that 
the degree I have attained being the highest to which 
a person of my birth could aspire, it is impossible 
that I should continue at such a height without some 
reverses — which can come to me only through the 
King's waning affection.-^ 

" The kingdom of France — nay ! I might say, all 
Europe — knows that my attachment was disinterested 

* " But, at any rate, however my evil fortune reaches me, I see 
that it is inevitable. The King is mistaken, though, if he thinks that 
ambition can efface my love. Ambition was not its mother ; nor can 
ambition be its tyrant. This new glittering glory can commit no 
parricide ! " (Part of text relegated to a note.) 



Louise de La Valli^re 203 

from the first, and continued so ; and that the King's 
Crown was the least of his attractions for me. 

" I have received much from his generous hands. 
I believed that I could not refuse, just as I have always 
believed that I could not ask ; for his great affection 
for me made all his benefits acceptable. This recent, 
bitterly-wounding suggestion of my marriage with 
Vardes justifies my suspicious apprehension ; and the 
cordiality of the Queen's attitude seems a tacit request 
to me for my consent to that step. But she does 
not know that my heart says No more loudly even 
than my personal antipathy, and that I cannot break 
the oath I made — •* never to change in my love ; never 
to marry.' 

" Permit me, Madame, to make a little digression 
on the subject of this marriage. I will put my feelings 
entirely aside, and speak quite reasonably, in so far 
as my feeble intelligence allows. 

" I now bear the title of Duchesse de Vaujours. I 
enjoy all the prerogatives belonging to that rank. 
1 have the right of the tabouret in the Queen's presence. 
I rank with the other Duchesses. I am no longer 
La Valliere.-^ The King has recognised our offspring ; 
my daughter is legitimated ; if I marry now, my 
husband will be one of the foremost men in the 
Kingdom. 

*' No, Madame ! I am wrong — I am not a Duchess. 
The Duchy is a Royal gift to my daughter, recognised 
and legitimated by the King, her father ; my adminis- 
tration, my enjoyment of the prerogatives oi her Duchy 
is a mere pretence, which would ruin me if I built 
upon it in any way. I must yield all to her as soon 

^ This is, as it were, an echo of a song of 1663 or 1664 : 

" Et cependant quoique je luy sois chere, 
Je suis La Vahere, moy, 
Je suis La Vali^re." 

Manuscrit du temps, p. 283. 



204 Louise de La Valliere 

as she comes of age — and be just La Valliere once 
more. 

" Where is the gentleman foolish enough to marry 
a Duchess without becoming a Duke ; to be stepfather 
to a natural daughter of the King, without any corre- 
sponding honours ? . . . There are too many com- 
plications here ! The King's interests and my daughter's 
interests, my possible husband's interests and my 
interests — no, no ! you must agree with me that the 
thing is impossible, and that any suggestions about 
it are simply ridiculous. . } 

" Nevertheless, if you take the trouble to look into 
the state of my affairs, you will see that I am an object 
of compassion, and you will pity me beforehand for 
all the anxieties that are surely in store for me. 

" The King is mortal — and he is going to battle. 
Suppose he should be killed — or that, through violent 
fatigues, he should contract some mortal malady — 
what would become of me ? There would be no 
middle course. I should have to go to Vaujours and 
accept my fate : bury myself in a distant province, 
settle myself down to rustic existence, and pass the 
rest of my life with my daughter the Duchess, in 
regrets and tears, without a friend to console and 
help me, Alas ! I feel secretly that, after such an 
event, I should neither have strength nor courage 
to survive — and even that it would be the best thing 
I could do, to die. 

" But then — what would become of the Royal child 

^ " Oh, I give rein to my love agaia ! I rejoice, it inspires me, 
to perceive that after all the whole thing is only a fresh proof of 
my lover's constancy ! Under this pretence, he calls the world to 
witness his indifference, while all the while he is really drawing closer 
still the bonds between us, those bonds which death alone can break. . . 
You see my weakness, and you will be able to give it a name : like 
all loving souls, I deceive myself, I flatter myself with my humiliations, 
rather than accept them for what they are." (Relegated to a note in 
the text.) 



Louise de La Valli^re 205 

I am to bear ? You know of that : I told you the 
secret as soon as I knew it myself — five months ago. 
The King knows it, too, and said it would be a boy 
this time — yet he has done nothing either for the child 
or the mother. What joy can I have, then, in this 
anticipation ? The difference between the brother 
and the sister ! She, Duchess and legitimate ; he, an 
unrecognised bastard ! I cannot face this prospect — 
yet only preparation for it can make it endurable if 
it comes true. The very thought of it tortures me, 
but I have too much trust in the God of . . .^ not 
to believe that I shall see my King again, in good 
health and covered with glory — and not only that, 
but with all his old affection for me. 

" However it be, life is uncertain, and my anxiety 
includible. Every post will make me shudder from 
this day forward ; and my imagination, already the 
prey of terrors, shows me nothing but hideous dreams 
of fresh mortification. Sleep, which usually can charm 
away care, for me serves but to augment it ; if I wake 
and find my dreams are only dreams, I shall merely 
think that a bad omen too ; and so imaginary troubles 
will be as bad as real ones. . . Sometimes I see the 
Queen reproaching me, and accusing me of the King's 
indifference to herself ; sometimes I see her ordering me 
to get into my carriage and retire instantly to Vaujours, 
' forbidden the Court from henceforth,' Another 
time she sends me to a convent — and so on, through 
all the thousand torments that slumber brings to 
distracted spirits. . . 1 want your help more than 
anything else in the world — your help and your wise 
counsel ; it has always consoled me so much that I 
conjure you to come to my aid in this evil hour. 
Believe me, it will be to your interest. I shall never 

^ This word is missing in the Recueil of M. Matter, whence this 
letter is copied. 



2o6 Louise de La Valliere 

cease to work on your behalf, so that you may have 
perpetual occasion to realise that I am, my dearest 
Madame, your very faithful friend and servant, 

"La Duchesse de Vaujours." 

Probably this letter was arranged by some friend ; 
but it is certain that it must be a faithful delineation 
of what, in 1667, was Louise de La Valliere's state 
of mind. Is it not the very echo of the supreme 
appeal in that tender, tortured soul ? 

The appeal was not heard : Louise de La Valliere 
was forbidden to follow the Court to Compiegne. 
This was equivalent to ordering her to retire to her 
own abode. For all her blazoned equipage, for all 
her Ducal honours, what a return that must have been ! 
She was only twenty years old, and she was to go 
back alone to Versailles, to live near that Palace where 
once each embellishment had been but a fresh flattery 
to her beauty, where every tree and bush had seen 
its hour of love. . . Now she was there, abandoned — 
and not even her daughter might she have as consola- 
tion. Mme Colbert was keeping the child for the 
King.i 

Nevertheless, Louise's appeal was not wholly fruit- 
less. The Letters-Patent were modified. A clause 
was inserted saying that the Duchy belonged to Madame 
de La Valliere, and, "after her decease," to Marie- 
Anne, her daughter. But, on the other hand, they 
did not omit those contradictory words which pro- 
vided that " in case of the decease of Marie-Anne, 
either before or after her mother^' the property would 
revert to Louise de La Valliere, on the condition that 
she could not dispose of it. To sum up : her material 

1 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 47. The other version of these 
memoirs seems to say the contrary ; but that version, arranged by 
a secretary, frequently mitigates the truth ! 



Louise de La Valliere 207 

necessities were ensured, and her peace of mind almost 
wholly unprovided-for. 



On May 24, while the humiliated favourite was 
sadly wending her way back to Paris, the King was 
definitely setting out to war. In a fortnight he 
reduced a certain number of places to submission — 
notably Charleroi. So that, on June 9, word came 
that he had summoned the Court to join him, and 
that he was coming to meet it himself as far as Avesnes. 
Instantly the opposition-party (which had always ex- 
isted under one form or another) began to find fault 
with Turenne for having cut short his operations, 
attributing this to ambitious motives ; while the King 
was censured for having interrupted his own successful 
career, just because he wanted to see his mistress again. 
These reproaches were both unmerited. Turenne 
stopped because his troops — assembled for a mere 
military display — were exhausted and needed rest. 
And Louis returned to Avesnes, because, having nothing 
better to do,^ he was very glad to show himself as a 
warrior to the ladies — and especially to one^ who was 
not La Valliere. 

But in her solitude at Versailles, Louise soon heard 
of this excursion. In her solitude, alas ! she was not 
alone, since a little life was pulsing beneath her heart — 
more forgotten even than herself, if possible. She 
could not bear it ! She set out *' unsummoned," ^ 

1 " Seeing that there was nothing for me to do in camp, I took the 
opportunity of returning to my frontier, where the Queen was also 
expected " {Memoires de Louis XIV., v. II. p. 251). 

^ D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 506. There is a passage in the 
historical fragments left by Racine which says: "The late Madame 
persuaded Mile de La Vallidre, who was at Mouchi, to join the 
Queen, and lent her a carriage." But this detail is falsified by the 
accurate text of Mile de Montpensier, to whom La Valliere said that 
" she had come from Versailles " {Memoires, v. IV. p. 78). La Valliere 
may have passed through Mouchy, and been encouraged by Madame. 



2o8 Louise de La Valli^re 

accompanied only by her sister-in-law, a charming, 
warm-hearted woman, whose devotion was not forgotten 
in the coming days. 

The Queen, on her side, having left Compiegne, 
had arrived at La Fere on June 20. That very day 
she was playing cards, as usual — she was very fond of 
cards. Suddenly there was a little stir. Mademoiselle, 
always on the watch, went out on some pretext, to 
see what it was about. They told her : " Mme 
de La Valliere is expected to-night ! " The news 
spoilt all Marie-Th6rese's good-humour. And next 
morning, in very truth, there were Louise, her 
sister-in-law, and the d'Artigny damsel, now Comtesse 
du Roure — all sitting on their boxes in the Queen's 
apartments ! They had not slept the night before, 
and were dropping with fatigue. Mademoiselle asked 
them if they had seen the Queen, and, on their saying 
they had not, she returned to the room where Marie- 
Th6rese was dressing. 

Marie-Th6rese was noble-natured, but she was also 
jealous and easily-influenced ; and now, once more, 
she was skilfully induced to be furious with Louise. 
She could not get dressed — she could do nothing but 
feel jealous. She wept, she swooned, she "had a 
turn " — and with her were three ladies, the Princesse 
de Bade, Mme de Montausier, and Mme de 
Montespan, who said over and over again, in unison, 
'* Just look at the state the Queen is in ! " 

When the hour for Mass arrived, Marie-Th6r^se 
went into the Royal pew, and ordered the door to be 
shut, lest La Valliere should follow her. Louise had 
stayed below, with the crowd. But, despite all the 
precautions, she approached the Queen as the latter 
was getting into her carriage. The Queen did not 
speak to her. Anger was growing under this silence, 
to such an extent that at the dinee the Sovereign 




After the picture in tlie collection of Baron Hottinguer, 



GABRIELI.E GLE DE LA COTARDAIS. 
(Marquise De La Valliere.) 



Louise de La Valli^re 209 

uttered this harsh command : " They are to send 
her nothing to eat ! " Villacerf, the maitre d' hotel, 
did not dare to obey. 

All the way along the road, they talked of nothing 
but La Valliere. Mme de Montespan said : " I 
wonder at her audacity in presenting herself before 
the Queen without knowing how she would be re- 
ceived ; assuredly the King did not summon her." 
Mme de Bade and Mme de Montausier exclaimed 
at the bare idea. In fact, everybody was puzzling 
over the strange arrival. Mme de Montespan also 
said : " Heaven preserve me from being the King's 
mistress ! But if I was, I should feel ashamed before 
the Queen." Marie-Therese kept crying. As for 
Mile de Montpensier, she was an adept at holding 
her tongue — and she held it then. 

At Guise the Duchess, feeling the hostile atmosphere 
around her, did not appear at the couchie. And, ever 
angrier and angrier, " the Queen forbade that any one 
should present herself, and ordered the troops which 
had come to meet her to give no escort to any one." 
However, when they got near Avesnes, the King, 
coming to meet the ladies, was perceived on the rising 
ground. Then Louise broke all bounds. " She 
ordered her carriage to drive across the fields at full 
speed. The Queen wanted to send and stop her ; she 
was terribly angry." ^ 

She would have been appeased if she could have seen 
how coldly the King greeted the poor lady. And 

' Here is the Gazette's account of it : " This Princess (the Queen) 
was received by the King at the head of his Guards, the rest of the 
troops being drawn up in battle-array near the town and along the 
road ; after some conversation between their Majesties, with all signs 
of the greatest affection, the Queen proceeded onwards in her carriage, 
wherein were seated Mademoiselle, the Princess de Bade, the Duchesse 
de Montausier, and some other ladies. The King then continued 
his march on horseback at the head of his troops" {Gazette, 1667, 
p. 582). 

14 



2IO Louise de La Valli^re 

when they arrived at Avesnes, he paid only the most 
formal of visits to Mme de La VaUiere, who did not 
join the Court-circle that evening, doubtless to avoid 
reproaches. But the King was displeased at that, for 
he considered himself sole arbiter of social arrange- 
ments. The next day, the Duchess presented herself 
to accompany the Queen to Mass, and although 
the carriage was full, those who were in it sat close 
so as to make room for her. On that day also 
she dined at the Royal table. These were, however, 
merely the honours due to her rank. In reality, 
Louis was sacrificing both his Queen and his mis- 
tress to a new idol. All the good Lenten reso- 
lutions were forgotten ; the brisk atmosphere of the 
camp, the animation of the soldier's life, had quickly 
laughed away penitence. 

During the four or five days spent at Avesnes 
(July 9-14, 1667), Mile de Montpensier, that knowing 
spinster of forty, perceived many things. " Mme de 
Montespan," she says, *' left me to play (with the 
Queen). She was lodging with Mme de Montausier, 
in one of her rooms, which was next to the King's 
apartment ; and it was remarked that there had been 
a sentinel on a step which was between the two, but 
that he had been removed. The King often stayed 
quite alone in his room, and Mme de Montespan did 
not appear in the Queen's suite." That is all 
Mademoiselle says, but it is enough. 

However, being advised of the recovery of his 
troops, the King set out again for Charleroi on the 
I4th.^ During the six days' rest, moreover, he had 
spent half his time in reviews, in visiting fortifications, 

' Mademoiselle, in her Memoires, says that two or three days were 
spent at Avesnes (v. IV. p. 50). Louis, in his (v. II, p. 302), implies 
that it was four. The truth is that he arrived on the 9th and left on 
the 14th {Archives historiques du Nord, 2nd series). 



Louise de La Valli^re 211 

in '* soldiering " — in short, his new passion, which 
though it was not going to exclude the others, was 
going, for long, to predominate. As to the Queen, the 
devotions of Corpus Christi and the following Sunday 
took up every moment of her time. She was a good 
woman, but she had no insight, and all her bitter 
feeling was for La' Valliere, who was already forsaken, 
and more deserving of pity than of anger. 

The favourite knew she was forsaken, and, like 
the Queen, she did not know for whom. Her rival 
pretended to be her friend. On the return to Com- 
piegne, the cortlge passed by Notre-Dame de Liesse, 
and there Mme de La Valliere and Mme de Montespan 
went to confession together. Perhaps the official sinner, 
bearing the secret evidence of yet another error, may 
have envied the unburdened conscience with which 
her beautiful companion, so sure of herself and her 
virtue — yet, at the same time, a client of la Voisin 
and of the assassin Guibourg — must have approached 
the place of repentance ! 



There is food for reflection here on the inaccuracy 
of human judgment, and the consequent errors of 
history. During the Avesnes expedition, when Louise 
was counting her days by their humiliations, more 
than one of her biographers, even the admiring ones, 
observed and severely censured, " the insensate 
haughtiness and wicked vanity of the Duchesse de La 
Valliere." ^ 

* P. Clement, Reflexions, v. I., Preface. M. Dreyss (Introduction to 
the Memoires, p. 7), speaks of the audacity of the Duchess, " who still 
thinks she is passionately beloved." 



CHAPTER II 

JULY, 1667 — FEBRUARY, I 668 

WHILE poor discouraged La Valliere returned 
to Paris, Mme de Montespan remained at 
Compiegne with the Court until the end of 
July, awaiting events. 

In less than a month, the King was master of both 
Tournai and Douai. But, in gaining this end, he once 
more exhausted the strength of his inexperienced 
soldiers. " Finally, to avoid being idle," he made a 
tour to Compiegne, and even went as far as Saint- 
Cloud^ to see Madame, who had nearly died from the 
effects of a miscarriage. La Valliere did not make an 
opportunity of seeing him — it would have been of no 
use, since the King's thoughts were now full of 
some one else. He hastily returned to the Court. 
Giving up his own room to Mile de Montpensier, he was 
content with the anteroom, which gave easy access to 
the Marquise de Montespan's apartments. He was 
with her all day and all the evening, and the 
" evenings " lasted on into the mornings. 

Once, at dinner, the Queen complained that he 
stayed up too late, and, speaking to Mademoiselle, 
said, " The King does not go to bed until four 

1 July 6, Monsieur went to see Madame at Saint-Cloud ; July 10, 
the King at Compiegne ; July 16, the King goes to see Madame at 
Saint-Cloud {Gazette, ^667, p. 690, 737). Madame, then ill, did not 
recover until August 5 (D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 511). 



Louise de La Valli^re 213 

o'clock, when it is broad daylight. I don't know what 
he can find to amuse him." 

"I read despatches and answer them," replied the 
King. 

" But surely you could do that some other time .? " 

Louis turned his head away to conceal a smile. 
The people present gazed at their plates. After dinner, 
as usual, they went for a walk. " Mme de Montespan 
came too. The King was exceptionally gay," 

However, if Louis failed in some of his duty towards 
his wife, he never lost sight of her well-being as 
regards her dowry. He even went to war to put 
Marie-Therese in possession of her inheritance. He 
took her to Douai and Tournai to show her to the 
populations conquered in her name. This done, he 
achieved another conquest — that of the Lady-in- 
Waiting. The Queen remained blind to it all. She 
went to every church, visited every convent. Her Lady 
only " followed " her to mass, and when questioned 
in the evening, the hypocrite " said she had been 
asleep all day." At last the King, getting ready for 
the Siege of Lille, sent the Court back to Arras. 
The Queen went on being very friendly with the 
Montespan, who was undoubtedly full of resource, 
able to turn anything into a joke. Risky stories were 
not in fashion just then, but a visit to an institution 
where little girls were brought up and trained to work 
was sufficient to keep up her spirits. In the evening she 
imitated the little peasants before the Queen " in the 
most ridiculous way in the world." And how could 
anybody mistrust such a bright madcap ! 

About this time, the Queen got a letter which she 
innocently spoke of next day to Mme de Montausier, to 
Mademoiselle, and even to Mme de Montespan herself.' 

" I have received a letter telling me many things 
which I don't believe. It tells me that the King is 



214 Louise de La Valli^re 

in love with Mme de Montespan, that he no longer 
cares for La Valliere, and that Mme de Montausier 
has brought this about ; that she is deceiving me ; that 
the King was never out of her house at Compiegne — 
in short, it says everything to convince me and make 
me hate her. I do not believe it, and have sent the 
letter to the King." 

To this unexpected confidence, each of the ladies char- 
acteristically replied. Mademoiselle de Montpensier, 
sure of herself, was content with the remark, " Your 
Majesty has acted quite rightly." Mme de Montespan 
spoke strongly of her obligations towards the Queen, 
the kindnesses she had received — and then, following the 
usual tactics, she added that she guessed where the letter 
came from. As for that austere lady, the Duchesse de 
Montausier, she repeated what she had said a few days 
before : " Since they accuse me of procuring mistresses 
for the King, there is no one to whom they will 
not do a bad turn." ^ And the Queen replied, " I see 
many things. 1 am not so blind as they think, but I 
am prudent." Never was claim less justified ! "The 
Queen treated Mme de Montespan better than ever." 
The King, who never tolerated interference in his private 
affairs, soon afterwards dismissed Mme d'Armagnac 
from the Court. She was supposed to have been 
the author of the anonymous letter. 

On September lo, 1667, Louis returned to Saint- 
Germain, after an easy victory. No one could re- 
proach him with putting on the airs of a conqueror. 
"He is the most modest person on earth. . . The part 
of conquering hero, which he might well play, seems 
to have imbued him with more sweetness than vanity." 

1 In a song of the time, to the air of Ron relon ion, Mme de 
Montausier is cruelly alluded to. 

" La Montausier passe pour m -" 

MSS. du temps, p. 315 : penes nos. 



Louise de La Valli^re 215 

Mme de Longueville, a good and unprejudiced 
judge, writes this testimony to the King, and her 
feminine eyes noticed another detail which might have 
escaped more profound poHticians. Till now, Louis 
had spoken very little to the ladies. His manners had 
been wanting in frankness and gaiety. A few bows, 
a polite answer when they spoke to him — nothing 
more. He never addressed them first. " But now 
it was quite different ; he commenced, and kept up the 
conversation, like any other man." ^ 

We might write, " Here endeth the Youth of 
Louis XIV." 

It was Madame de Montespan who had taught Louis 
this assurance ; she had accustomed him to gallant 
behaviour, and taught him to converse ; indeed, she 
had transformed the timid lover of the timid Louise 
de La Valli^re into a conquering hero, self-confident, 
victorious over women as easily as over men. 

Louise was then at Saint-Germain. Maternal 
instinct drew her near to the father of her daughter, 
Marie-Anne, and of the little child who was coming. 
What fate awaited this gift of gone-by love ? Was 
the acknowledged mother of a King's daughter, 
legally recognised and titled, to bring a bastard into 
the world ^ That cruel uncertainty was not spared 
to the poor lady, more miserable with her title 
and her money than when she had been only La 
Valliere. She was taken ill at Saint-Germain, and had 
to stifle her moans just as she had had to do at 
Vincennes. She was confined " in secret " on Saturday, 
October 3, and had a son,^ who was immediately carried 
away, and whose existence was for a long time kept 

* Mme de Longueville's letter to Mme de Sable, Sept. 15, 1667. 
See Cousin, Madame de Sable, p. 382, edition 1854. 

* Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 62. " Everybody suspected that 
her confinement had occurred. In fact they knew it, and she would 
have liked to keep it secret." 



2i6 Louise de La Valliere 

dark. As at Vincennes, she was obliged to pretend to 
live her ordinary life. On that very Saturday evening 
they had medianoche in her room. It might well have 
been of her that these words were written : " Thou 
shalt bring forth thy children in sorrow." 

The physical anguish lasts only for a day, and a 
mother forgets it quickly in the sight of her baby, 
but Mme de La Valliere had not that consolation. 
Moreover, both before and after her son's birth, she 
was consumed with anxiety. For more than a year, 
Louis had done nothing to reassure the unhappy 
mother. Prudence had replaced tenderness. One 
recalls Mademoiselle's remark, when La Valliere was 
raised to the rank of Duchess : " We shall hear of 
no more babies." The Princess Palatine has left a 
too-probable explanation of this conduct : " They 
had made the King believe that the child was not 
his." -^ That this was said is quite possible, but it is 
inconceivable that Louis can have believed it. It was 
at most a pretext under which he hid liis real designs, 
to whose ruthless development his former mistress had 
to submit. 

From the end of 1667 to the beginning of 1674 — 
seven whole years — Louise de La Valliere's life was 
mixed up with the Montespan's. Athenafs, though, 
took first place, and filled it superbly. We have no 
knowledge of when this new reign began. Who can 
ever say the exact moment when a coquette yields .? 

1 Correspondance de la Duchesse d' Orleans, v. I. p. 306. " When one 
of the Montespan's children died, the King was deeply moved ; but he 
was not touched by the death of the poor little Comte de Vermandois, 
for the Montespan and the old woman made him believe the child was 
not his, but Lauzun's ; but it would have been well if all the King's 
bastards had been his as undoubtedly as that one ; Mme de La Valliere 
was not a giddy, deceiving mistress, as she showed by her repentance 
and the remorse which lasted to the end of her life. She was a sweet, 
good, gentle, tender creature. She had not loved the King for ambition, 
but had had a sincere passion for him, and never loved any one else 
during her whole life.'' 



Louise de La Valli^re 217 

Eyes, words, and thoughts, if not the heart, may 
have committed adultery a thousand times, yet the 
woman can still say she has done no wrong. Here 
is an account hitherto unpublished, and very likely 
to be true. " The first time the King saw her 
privately was by surprise, and was not arranged by 
her. Mme d'Hudicourt always slept with her, and 
one evening, when Mme de Montespan was in bed 
first, Mme d'Hudicourt, who was in the King's 
confidence, left the room, upon which the King 
entered, disguised as a Swiss of M. de Montausier's." ^ 
Love, on that occasion, wore a very ugly livery ! 

But Mortemart's daughter, though she had long 
since dethroned her rival, was afraid of her still. 
Never having loved, she could never feel sure of 
being loved. No matter how much they talked of 
her triumphant beauty, her delightful wit, and her 
inexhaustible brilliancy, she felt uneasy always before 
the emaciated beauty of Louise, and especially before 
her true-hearted sincerity. Never has a hypocritical 
love so frankly confessed its inferiority. This 
beautiful, brilliant woman could feel no assurance, 
except when she was with the chiromancer and her 
acolytes, the magicians ! ^ 



Towards the end of 1 667, the visits to the hideous den 
in the Rue Beauregard recommenced. La Voisin sold 
love-powders. Calcined bones of toads, calcined moles' 
teeth,^ and human dust all entered into these extra- 

1 Abrege de Vhistoire de France, v. IV. p. 22. MSS. in our own library, 
the work of President Renault, who had been in the confidence of 
the Marshal de Villeroi. See his Memoires, p. 18. 

^ See the clear and overwhelming deposition of Voisin's daughter, 
Aug. 13, 1680 {Archives de la Bastille, v. VI. p. 289). 

^ Lesage got moles for Philbert, a rival of la Voisin's {Archives 
de la Bastille, v. V. p. 287). La Voisin distilled toads, and was nearly 
suffocated one day in the midst of this charming occupation. 



2i8 Louise de La Valli^re 

ordinary mixtures ; the shameless creature even added 
drugs to make the effect more unfaiHng. One of 
la Voisin's contractors had a recipe in which cantharides 
was mixed with dried prunes and the filings of iron. 
Perhaps it was that which caused the hysterics of which 
the King complained, and which the doctors could not 
understand ! 

But all these philtres were not enough for Mme 
de Montespan. Lesage, the learned friend of la 
Voisin, insisted upon the great difference between 
sorcery and magic. To the use of these powders, he 
opposed charms and incantations. In that lay his 
talent, and his particular profit.^ In more than 
one case, Lesage seems to have acted in a rather 
brutal manner towards his partner, whose clientele 
he was taking away. But, as regards the Marquise, 
there was no appearance of doing so. She could not 
have too many chiromancers and magicians around her. 
The clever rascal brought her to his house, where 
the priest Mariette, less loathsome than Guibourg, cele- 
brated Masses less bloody than those at the Castle 
of Villebousin, but quite as impious. This devil's 
den was in the Rue de la Tannerie, a few steps from 
the Place de Greve, and in sight of the Pillory. They 
dressed an altar in a little room, and Mariette, clothed 
in all his ornaments, proceeded to deliver incantations. 
Lesage sang the Veni, Creator ; Mariette read a 
gospel over the Marquise's head, who, kneeling under 
the stole, repeated the conjuration against La Valliere.^ 

' He pretended afterwards that he took away la Voisin's customers 
to prevent their being deceived by her (Interrogation of Lesage, 
Nov. 15, 1680; Archives de la Bastille, v.Vl.-pY). -^^j, 359). Thus he 
described himself to Mme de Polignac as a magician who could do her 
business better without any fear of compromising her {The con- 
fronting of la Voisin and Lesage, Jan. 16, 1680). 

* It would be well to read La Reynie's report {Archives de la 
Bastille, v. IV. pp. 126, 33) and the interrogation of Lesage and Mariette 
(v. VL pp. 357, 359, 381, 386). 



Louise de La Valli^re 219 

These ceremonies took up so much time that the 
Lady-in- Waiting was not always free to work with 
the magicians, so they found a means by which she 
might act alone. They asked her to bring two pigeons' 
hearts. Over these hearts Mariette said Mass — a real 
Mass this time — in the very church of Saint-S6verin ! 
He passed them under the chalice. Then the Marquise 
followed Mariette and Lesage into their room, and 
they conspired once more against La Valliere. The 
two hearts were enclosed in a silver-gilt box with 
a paper containing VEvangile des rois, some words of 
a hymn, Ortus refulget Lucifer^ a star, and a little 
consecrated wafer. Athenais in future could " make 
her conspiracy in private." 

That was not all. In the beginning of 1668, Lesage 
and Mariette had the audacity to go to the Castle at 
Saint-Germain, to the very house which Mme de 
Thianges, their client's sister, occupied. The priest, 
in a surplice and stole, began by sprinkling holy 
water, then read the gospel over the Marquise's head, 
while Lesage made fumigations and burnt incense. 
The ceremony ended, as usual, with the formula 
against La Valliere, The cynical rascals confessed it 
later. " The King's name was mentioned, as well as 
Mme de La Valliere's. They entreated the love of 
the King, and the death of Mme de La Valliere." -^ 

Everything went well for Mme de Montespan. 
It was enough to make the magicians themselves 
believe in their own arts ! Moreover, in January, 
an unexpected piece of luck came their way. The 

^ " Marietta said they only asked that she might be sent away '' 
(M. DE LA Reynie, Memoires). The very curious documents connected 
with the trial of these poisoners go on to tell of a similar occasion 
when Mme de Polignac was mentioned. But a very careful study has 
shown me that Lesage and Mariette did indeed go through the same 
proceedings for both these superstitious ladies. La Reynie knew that 
well, and about this whole affair his testimony holds good. 



220 Louise de La Valli^re 

" beautiful comedy of Amphitryon " was played. 
Moliere ^ had imitated it freely, and greatly improved 
upon the original. It has since been thought that this 
work was written by command ; but the King, still 
secretive, would have forbidden any such allusions, 
and Moliere, always prudent, would not have dared to 
include them. But, though accidental, the coincidence 
was not the less amusing. In one respect, especially, 
Louis resembled Jove. Like him, he could keep 
up a mystery about an illicit love-affair, with the 
help of a Saint-Aignan, *' Due de Mercure, a Duke 
and Duchess of Montausier," and several others. At 
the very same time (November, 1667 — January, 1668) 
our mysterious and artful King made an incomparably 
clever political move. He allowed a public ballet to 
divulge part of his warlike schemes, thus dissimulating 
the better their near and startling realisation. 

At Paris, the Mascarade Royal was danced on 
January 18, 1668. The King represented "Pleasure" 
first, and then a serious part. 

"Voyez de quelle grace en cadence il se meut, 
II n'est pas de coeur qu'il n'entraine. 
Enfin, c'est un plaisir de reine, 
Et n'en goute pas qui veut." 

And while the King danced, the poet sang of Spain : 

" Elle doit cet hyver d6tourner ses malheurs ; 
Sinon, au retour du Zephire, 
Je crains qu'elle n'ait lieu de dire : 
Pour un plaisir mille douleurs." 

In reality, under this guise of merry-making, a very 
serious diligent King, indefatigable as regards work, 
was concealing an approaching campaign. Fifteen 
days later, without even " awaiting the Zephyr," 
but as soon as Conde was ready, he left, (February 2, 

' An imitation of Plautus' comedy had already been attempted by 
Rotrou {La Vie de M. de Moliere, by Grimarest, in the (Euvres de 
M. de Moliere^ Paris, 1718, v. I. p. 55). 



Louise de La Valli^re 221 

1668) alone this time, and not in a carriage,^ but 
on horseback, like a soldier. 

The Queen had returned to Saint-Germain ; Mme de 
Montespan was there in her official position. La 
Valli^re had followed her, and was commencing her 
purgatory on earth. Occasionally the two ladies went 
for walks in the Park with Mademoiselle. There was 
no appearance of discord, or even of distrust. Besides, 
the King allowed no time for such complications to 
arise. Scarcely had they heard of his arrival on the 
scene of battle before he announced his return. In 
twenty-two days he had taken Franche-Comt^, showing 
much bravery and ardour. 



Money-troubles and annoyances, worse companions 
than la Voisin, then laid hold of haughty Athenais. 

On March i, 1668, Maitres Crespin and Carre, 
and Maitres Letemplier and S6journant, Notaries, were 
visited by this lady, accompanied by her husband, who 
borrowed fourteen thousand livres. We may gather 
that a certain amount of this money was used to buy 
the powders and pigeons' hearts, which had certainly 
succeeded wonderfully for our customer of sorcerers was 
just then favoured by both King and Queen. It 
seemed as if they need no longer conceal anything, 
for Marie-Th6rese shut her eyes and refused to listen 
to the insinuations of the Court. 

But at the very doors of the Palace the people were 
not merely insinuating — they were shouting insults. 
One day a woman who had lost her son, as the result 
of an accident at the works at Versailles, was heavily 
taxed by a Court of Justice. She awaited Louis in 
the passage and heaped insults upon him, calling him 
the " libertine, the intriguing King, the tyrant," and 
^ He took a carriage only across Paris. 



222 Louise de La Valli^re 

so on. " The King could not believe his ears ; he 
asked if she was speaking to him, to which she replied 
that she was, and continued." 

They seized the unfortunate creature, and threw 
her into the Petites-Maisons, having first had her 
whipped in public, " with extreme rigour, during which 
she did not utter a cry, suffering this cruelty as does 
a martyr, for the love of God." Shortly afterwards, 
in spite of this example, a man burst forth into similar 
speeches. He was condemned to the galleys, and to 
have his tongue cut out. Public opinion, whose 
tongue cannot be cut out, waxed indignant over these 
rigours, and protested against such arbitrary punishments. 

So began the second phase of the passions of Louis 
XIV. The world had tolerated the love of a young 
prince for a mere child, who was without ambition, 
and whose wrong-doing could be almost pardoned 
on account of her charm and unselfishness ; but it 
was harder upon this adulterous passion, and upon 
a King of thirty, subjugated by a haughty Montespan. 

At Court it was always understood that nothing 
was to be taken seriously, so they sang : 

" On dit que La Valliere 
S'en va sur son d6clin; 
Ce n'est que par maniere 
Que le roi suit son train ; 
Montespan prend sa place. 
II faut que tout y passe 
Ainsi de main en main." 

The songs, however, were only whispered, for the 
courtiers were as sweet to the Marquise as they had 
been treacherous to La Vallifere. Mme de Montausier 
lowered herself to acting the go-between. We cannot 
even exempt her husband from blame ; he was brave 
and well-principled, but held that the King was outside 
all principles and laws. A deplorable weakness — and 
all the less pardonable because it was a way of currying 
favour. 



Louise de La Valli^re 223 

Just then, all the greatest nobles were hoping for 
the post of Governor to the Dauphin. Public opinion 
pointed to the Marechal de Bellefonds or the Due 
de Navailles, who had behaved most nobly, as we know, 
where his wife was concerned, even to going against 
the King. Clever folk laid wagers upon the husband 
of Mme de Montausier, favourite of the favourites. 



We come now to February, 1668, the time at which 
Lesage and Mariette were working in the Castle of 
Saint-Germain. It was just then that a serious thing 
happened, which for several months made the issue of 
these plots very uncertain. . . But the domain, for 
which Louise had never asked, was finally paid for. A 
decree of Parliament (February 22, 1668) authorised 
dame Louise-Fran^oise de La Baume Le Blanc, 
Duchesse de La Valliere, to put into the hands of 
Robert, principal clerk at the Record-Office, the sum of 
248,000 livres in payment for her acquisition of the 
estates of Vaujours and Saint-Christophe. We must 
not fancy, however, that the Duchess was well-off even 
then. On the contrary, she was in such straitened 
circumstances that on January i, 1668, the day of 
present-giving (this date is worth noticing) she had 
had to borrow 20,000 livres from a friar, Jean Pottier, 
who charged no interest. Louise promised to pay 
him back whenever he should ask for it, but, as she 
was still a minor, she pledged herself to settle the 
affair as soon as she was twenty-five, which would 
be on August 8, 1669 ; but the loan was not repaid 
until January 28, 1673 — we know not precisely how, 
but at all events Jean Pottier was content. 



CHAPTER III 

FEBRUARY, 1668 FEBRUARY, 1669 

ENCOURAGED by success and emboldened by- 
impunity, the rascals of the Rue Beauregard and 
Rue de la Tannerie threw all moderation to the 
winds. Their clientele was growing. They were working 
for Mme du Roure, for de Polignac — and j-////, against La 
Valli^re ! In March there were great ceremonies for 
Mme de Polignac, in the very chapel of Saint-Germain 
itself. Two pigeons' hearts had been buried at the 
Bois de Boulogne — one of the best-known incantations, 
supposed to produce immense effects in forty days 
at latest. The infallible hour was approaching, when 
a troublesome accident happened, which compromised 
the very sorcerers themselves. About June 29, Lesage 
and Mariette were arrested.^ What can have been 
Mme de Montespan's emotions on hearing this news ! 
On June 30, the examination of Mariette upon his 
relations with Voisin began. He was also examined 
on the point of the petitions passed under the chalice, 
and on certain " texts " pronounced over the head of 
a certain great lady. . . One searching question, one 
slip from the witness — and the whole pack of cards 
would be about her ears ! There was another worry 

1 " There is much talk here of a priest from Saint-S^verin whom 
they have in the Bastille. They say — but I don't believe it — that he's a 
wizard" (Guy-Patin, Lettres, July 17, 1668, v. III. p. 283, 1707 
edition). In his letter of the following 27th, Guy-Patin reaffirms his 
incredulity : " The Criminal Prosecutor is working at this business of 
the priest-wizard ! " 

224 



Louise de La Valliere 225 

as well. While she was speculating distractedly on 
these matters, the poor lady was forced to appear as 
serene and gay as ever, to laugh and amuse herself, 
with the Bastille and Chatelet cells for ever present to 
her mind's eye ! For at this very moment the King, 
as compensation for a Carnival which had been cut 
short by his campaign in Franche-Comte, had resolved 
to give some great festivities at Versailles. They 
began on July 18. The Duchesse de La Valliere and 
her sister-in-law, the Marquise, sat at the Royal table. 
Mme de Montespan was relegated to that of the 
Queen's ladies, but the King's eyes were never off her 
face. The festivities lasted for a week. Moliere — 
that too well-informed husband — like a sick man 
worrying at his wound, continued to divert the Court 
at the expense of his jealous fellow-sufferers. Georges 
Dandin followed Amphitryon^ farce supplementing 
comedy. 'Tis said that the great man, having 
modelled one of his characters on a certain person, 
read the piece to the model, so as entirely to remove 
all suspicion — and that the audacious impertinence 
succeeded. Yet, daring as Moliere was, he might 
well have been nervous if he had pondered on all the 
possible applications of his work. Athena'ls, certainly, 
could hardly have recognised herself, in her part of 
temptress to adultery, under the mask of Alcmena, that 
discreet lady whom a god led astray ! But had she 
not practised all the artifices of the Sottenvilles' daughter 
when that young lady fled to meet Clitandre ? Turn 
Georges Dandin, the peasant married to a country- 
squire's daughter, into a provincial nobleman, the 
unhappy husband of a Court-beauty — and you have 
M. de Montespan ! According to Moliere, Georges 
Dandin immensely amused the King and the courtiers. 
One can understand the King, but surely Montespan- 
Dandin, wild with jealousy, and Athena'is-Angelique, 

15 



226 Louise de La Valli^re 

totally oblivious of his sufferings, must have listened 
in somewhat distracted fashion ! Astonishingly cool- 
headed as the lady was, it must have been difficult to 
laugh while her imprisoned wizards were being examined 
by the magistrates. 

And as misfortunes never come singly, M, de 
Montespan chose that moment to be particularly 
troublesome. 

He was a highly intelligent man, but, in the opinion 
of those most thoroughly steeped in the Versailles 
atmosphere, '* a very extravagant and eccentric kind 
of husband." Let us judge for ourselves. He " made 
a desperate fuss about the King's liking for his wife ; " 
talked of it to all and sundry, and created endless 
scandal. Some caricatures are more like than portraits, 
and a pamphlet of the time invented a conversation 
between M. de Montespan and Lord Castlemaine, 
the husband of a lady whom Charles II. honoured with 
his '* liking." The English peer is philosophic ; but 
the Marquis is jealous, and, as Mile de Montpensier 
said, " eccentric." There is no doubt that he made 
every imaginable effort to escape dishonour. His wife 
had offered to leave Court (some said), had even 
begged him to take her out of reach of temptation, by 
carrying her off to his castle in the Pyrenees. . . All 
this is in the highest degree improbable.-^ Montespan 
alone it was who had the courage, almost unique in 
those days, to dispute his wife with the King. 

On a September day, in 1666, at Saint-Germain, he 
actually ventured to read Louis a homily, in which 
he brought forward several texts from Holy Writ — 
especially the case of David — to prove that the King 

' Saint-Simon, notes on Dangeau (see Memoires de Dangeau, v. XVI. 
p, 50). Saint-Simon says merely that Montespan, eagerly urged 
by his wife, refused, in his foolish confidence in her, to take her 
away. 



Louise de La Valli^re ^2y 

must give up the Marquise or fear the judgment of 
God. " The harangue was admirable." That evening, 
in Paris, he told Mile de Montpensier all about it, 
*' I told him " (we quote her own words) " not to be 
a fool. These stories were too absurd, I said. No- 
one would believe that he had really said all that ; 
they would put it down to the Archbishop of Sens, 
who was his uncle, and hostile to Mme de Montespan." 
This was a futile argument, for the Archbishop, 
despite a reputation for severity, had only one anxiety 
just then, and that was to show how absolutely neutral 
he was in the extraordinary affair. Montespan knew 
all this, and " went on talking." Mademoiselle saw 
that her arguments were unavailing, and as the victim 
was a sort of connection, and might compromise her 
as well as the Archbishop, she hurried off to Saint- 
Germain next day. There, drawing Mme de Montespan 
aside, she said : " I saw your husband at Paris. He 
is crazier than ever. I scolded him well, and told him 
that if he didn't hold his tongue, he would really hav^ 
to be put in prison." 

And the favourite answered with apparent compo- 
sure, " He's here — setting the whole Court by the ears. 
I'm so ashamed, for he and my parrot seem to be 
considered equally amusing by the wretched creatures ! 
He's telling the most awful stories, and bringing in 
Mme de Montausier's name." ^ 

But though Athenafs took this disdainful attitude, 
things were turning into deadly earnest, and the 
'' fuss " was growing into a scandal. Montespan, 
forgetful now of the effect, and eager only to divine 
the cause, accused the virtuous Mme de Montausier of 

^ Mile DE Montpensier, Memoires, v. IV. p. 153. The two ver- 
sions of these Memoires should always be collated. 

A portrait at the Cassel Museum represents the Marquise with her 
parrot {De La Valliere a Montespan). 



228 Louise de La Valli^re 

being the source of his misfortune. But the incompar- 
able Julie had done so well out of the little kindnesses 
of the sort which she had already rendered that she 
now entirely disdained such petty devices. Her 
husband had just been appointed Governor to the 
Dauphin — a post which he had obtained over the 
heads of M. de Navailles, husband of the stern 
Duchess, and M. de Bellefonds, the friend and adviser 
of the Duchesse de La Valliere. The Lady-of- 
Honour was overwhelmed with congratulations. But 
one fine day a man rushed in upon her, burst into re- 
criminations, called her a go-between, and used other 
brutal words to characterise her behaviour with regard 
to his wife. It was that Montespan, being " eccentric " 
once more ! There was a terrible fuss ; somebody ran 
to tell the King, and hurried back again ; but the mad 
Marquis had said his say, and had already disappeared. 
Mme de Montespan, being informed of it, went to her 
friend. Mme de Montausier was lying on her bed, so 
upset that she could not speak. But at last she was 
able to tell La Grande Mademoiselle, who had quickly 
rejoined the favourite, about the furious entrance of 
le mart, and his still more furious outbreak : " He 
said the most insulting things to me. I thanked 
God " (God must be thanked, though the heavens 
fall !) " that there were only women here ; if there had 
been any men, he'd have been flung out of the 
window, I'm sure ! " ^ 

On the whole the principal victim was Mme de 
Montausier. When she had recovered from the first 
shock, she said that the whole thing reminded one of 
the old conquerors and the slaves who followed their 

^ Compare the two editions of Mademoiselle's Memoirs, First 
edition : " There was a tremendous deal of gossip, but it was hushed 
up as much as possible," Second edition : " There was a tremendous 
deal of gossip, because the outrage was really unbearable to a woman 
who had hitherto had a good reputation." 



Louise de La Valliere 229 

cars, shouting abuse all the time. This pompous 
comparison, in the slightly faded taste of the Hotel 
Rambouillet, did not silence criticism. One of her 
dear friends remarked — and was at once voted a 
wit — that the Marquis had strewed ashes on Mme de 
Montausier's head. Another friend, Mme de Longue- 
ville, felt her devotional calm sway before the wind of 
these adventures. She wrote to the Duchess, in a 
condoling manner, " three lines of balderdash " ; and 
to Mme de Sable, in very trenchant style, a cruel 
analysis of the situation : " Of all the accidents which 
can happen to an old Lady-of-Honour, that is the 
most humiliating." ^ 

The lady was not so old as her friend was kind 
enough to hint ; but this mortification aged her sadly. 
It is impossible to pity her. She was expiating a 
double wrong. What she had done to injure 
Montespan was assuredly the lesser one : it did not 
exceed the limits of a somewhat disgraceful complaisance. 
The greater was that of which she had been guilty 
towards two defenceless Queens, in their own Palace, 
when she had obliged them to receive Louise de La 
Valliere at Vincennes. 

Montausier took his wife's adventures quite philo- 
sophically. He had come back from his province 

1 The letter has been published by Cousin, Madame de Sable, 
p, 410: "What do you think of the Dauphin's new Governor? and 
what do you say to the mortification which spoilt the rejoicings over it 
all — I mean the affair with M. de Montespan ? Have you congratulated . 
Mme de Montausier ? My own inclination was to hold my tongue, 
for I thought one had better not say anything which might remind her 
of such a horrid business. But some one told me that she might be 
offended by my silence ; so I wrote her three lines of balderdash." 
Mayolais, one of Loret's successors, had a charming couplet about it : 

" II court un bruit que je tiens singulier, 
Que Ton fait changer a Dame Montausier, 
Qui n'en SQaura la cause en d'autres termes I'apreine : 
Des affaires des Grands je n'empestre ma veine." 

Sept. 20, 1669, V. Ill, p. 933. 



230 Louise de La Valli^re 

in Normandy, where the pestilence was then raging, 
and the King had sent him into a sort of quarantine 
at Rambouillet. No one told him about the scene 
when he arrived at Court, and " he pretended to know 
nothing of it." Louis, who must have known all, 
had Montespan arrested, but all sorts of pretexts were 
invented to save every one's face. Guy-Patin, writing 
to one of his correspondents, said : " This morning 
(September 22) M. de Montespan, son-in-law of M. de 
Mortemart, was by order of the King imprisoned 
in For-l'Eveque, for having criticised unfavourably 
the King's selection of M. de Montausier." For, 
after all, it was difficult to incriminate the favourite's 
husband ! Louis almost immediately permitted him 
to be released ; but, at the same time, he thought it 
well to take the Court to some less accessible place 
than Saint-Germain, so on September 22 they left 
for Chambord. 

The Castle of Chambord is now considered one 
of our finest specimens of Renaissance architecture. 
In it, grandiosity is allied to grace, the most delicate 
ornaments being supported by a thoroughly solid 
structure. But the men of the seventeenth century, 
indifi^erent to the beauties which delight us nowadays, 
saw it merely as a very old Palace, well-built despite 
its antiquity, situated in a good hunting-country — 
and " big enough to house all the European Royalties." 
There was a further advantage : no large town was 
near, not even a village — tiresome and " eccentric " 
folk could not suddenly descend upon one. The 
immense park was entirely enclosed, and very easy 
to guard. In short, if the King was at home every- 
where, here one was " at home " with the King, and 
no one could come in without his express permission. 
To one of the guests invited — or rather, ordered — 
there, namely, to Louise de La Valliere, Chambord 



Louise de La Valli^re 231 

had the charm of looking out on the banks of the 
Loire. From her windows she could see Blois, and 
that other Palace which had sheltered her as a child. 
She had left it an ignorant girl, infinitely curious 
about life, obscure, almost a nobody ; she saw it now 
as an experienced and disillusioned woman, a Duchess 
without a Duke, a married woman without a husband, 
a mother without children. On the glass of a window 
at Chambord a former King — who had no right to 
make the quip ! — had written the well-known couplet : 

" Souvent femme varie, 
Mai habil qui s'y fie." 

It is said that one day La Valli^re silently pointed it out 
to Louis XIV. — a delicate allusion to the inconstancy 
of the King, a dumb reproach, characteristic of the 
woman who never " varied," except to grow better. 
Louis understood, and had the motto erased or the 
pane removed — for the epigram in this case was too 
ironical. Then he went on varying.-^ 

The distich of Francis I. had been replaced, in 
Court quotation, by the latest fashionable couplet : 

" On dit que La Valli^re 
S'en va sur son declin. 
Montespan prend sa place; 
II faut que tout y passe 
Ainsi de main en main." 

" Montespan takes her place ! " Any profound 
observer would have chosen La Valliere's " decline " 
rather than her rival's success. . . The Marquise had 
had to leave Paris on September 24, when Mariette 
and Lesage were in prison. The audacious rascals had 
appealed to Parliament against their first sentence, 
and were to be examined again on September 26. 

' If we believe the tradition, it must have been in the year 1668 
that the little scene took place. Two years later, on the second 
visit, the reproach would have lost much of its delicacy. 



232 Louise de La Valli^re 

Every turn of the Royal carriage-wheels took her 
farther away — and distance and anxiety make a bad 
pair. JVhat would happen ? But the Montespan's foul 
accomplices were quite as tenacious of their squalid 
existences as she was of her splendours. Voisin loved 
Lesage, who loved her in return. The wizard had 
even begun a sort of envoutement of her husband — and 
these gentry, when they were working for themselves, 
got quite certain results from their magic. In a 
word, the woman, either from love or fear, used her 
influence. She knew many people, even in the 
magistracy.^ Mariette was related to the wife of the 
Judge who heard his case. . . Our villains made 
evasive replies. They pretended that they had never 
heard Mme de Montespan's name, and President de 
Mesme hushed up the affair. Lesage, under the name 
of Dubuisson, went to the galleys, calmly enough, 
lest a worse fate befall him. The authorities contented 
themselves with banishing the priest Mariette, But 
sentence was not pronounced until the early days of 
October, so the torture of the question lasted three 
months for Mme de Montespan. There were com- 
pensations, though. The magicians might be having 
a disagreeable quarter of an hour — but their magic was 
triumphantly successful. The favourite knew that a 
fresh bond, a living bond, was about to rivet the 
King's affection for her. 

Sweet and gentle as La Valliere was, it was im- 
possible, after the scandal at Saint-Germain, that she 
should be satisfied with a silent protest. Her love 
was too profound to accept defeat so easily. She tried 
to fight for her own hand ; but we have only scanty 

^ Lesage, in one of his depositions, gave some curious details 
of Voisin's relations with legal and police circles. La Boutier says 
that Voisin "had an immense number of acquaintances of every 
sort and kind " {Archives de la Bastille^ v. IV. p. 41). 



Louise de La Valli^re 233 

information about this critical period. La Valliere, 
characteristically, says nothing of it ; and the King, 
as one might suppose, omits any mention from his 
Memoires. There is little or no correspondence on 
the subject. Bussy-Rabutin was paying his attentions 
to Mme de Montespan ^ ; Mme de Sevigne kept all 
her smiles for the new favourite. Nothing succeeds 
like success. Only one anonymous contemporary 
writer has given us a well-imagined account of the 
scene. 

La Valliere " gently complained to the King. He 
told her coldly that he was too sincere to deceive her 
any longer ; that it was true he loved Mme de 
Montespan ; but that, nevertheless, he had not ceased 
to feel for herself a very sincere affection ; that he was 
doing things for her with which she had every reason 
to be satisfied — that, indeed, he did not think she 
could desire more, and that she was too intelligent not 
to be aware that a King of his type did not like to be 
under any kind of constraint. . . So hard and cold 
a reply, and so definitely authoritative a manner, over- 

' Letter of August i, i66g, Correspondance de Roger de Rabutin, 
V. I. p. 191. We know not why doubts have been cast upon the 
authenticity of the following letter from La Vallidre, in which she 
describes, so forcibly and sincerely, her state of mind : " Ah, my 
father, do not forbid me the hair-shirt — so small a thing as it is ! It 
mortifies my sinful flesh, but it cannot touch my far more sinful soul. 
Not the hair-shirt it is which wears me down, which robs me of sleep 
and rest, but my undying remorse, and the weak longing I feel to give 
myself reason for still more repentance. For do I not see them every 
day ? Do not my eyes watch their eyes ? Am I not seated by her 
side, while he is on the other — but so far from me ! Do I not hear and 
see ? Oh, my father ! may God forgive me if I blaspheme — but though 
I am not acquainted with hell, I can imagine none more terrible than 
that in which my heart now abides, and desires, alas ! to abide — for 
not to see hint would be a worse torment, and one which I cannot 
face." (Fragment of a letter quoted in the Memoires de la baronne 
d^Oberkirck, v. II. p. 223, and reproduced in the sequel to the Reflexions 
sur la misericorde de Dieti, by the Duchesse de La Valliere. New 
edition, revised, annotated, and prefaced by a biographical study, by 
Pere Clement, of the Institute.) 



234 Louise de La Valli^re 

whelmed Mme de La Valliere entirely. She wept, 
she pleaded. . . Nothing could move the King. His 
mind was made up, and he interrupted her to say 
curtly that if she wished to retain his affection she 
must ask nothing from him that he did not give of 
his own free will ; that his desire, moreover, was that 
she should continue to live with Mme de Montespan 
as she had hitherto done ; and he ended by threatening 
to take other steps if she showed any hostility towards 
that lady. 

" Mme de La Valliere, who is the sweetest woman 
imaginable, obeyed, regarding the King's will as law. 
She lived with Mme de Montespan like anything 
rather than a rival. And as nobody had any doubt at 
all that the King was thoroughly weary of La Valliere, 
and that his one idea was to break entirely with her 
and devote himself to Mme de Montespan, they all 
admired her gentleness and submission. 

" Mme de La Valliere, however, resolved to make 
one last effort, for either she still preserved one gleam of 
hope, or else she hoped to cheat her grief by expressing 
it — at any rate, she sent this sonnet to the King : 

'Tout se d6truit, tout passe, et le coeur le plus tendre 
Ne peut du meme objet se contenter toujours ; 
Le passe n'a point eu d'eternelles amours, 
Et les siecles suivants n'en doivent point entendre. 
La Constance a des lois qu'on ne veut point attendre ; 
Des desirs d'un grand roi rien n'arrete le cours : 
Ce qui plait aujourd'huy deplait en peu de jours ; 
Cette in^galite ne sauroit se comprendre. 
Tons ces defauts, grand roi, font tort k vos vertus ; 
Vous m'aimiez autrefois, mais vous ne m'aimez plus. 
Mes sentiments, helas ! different bien des votres ! 
Amour, a qui je dois et mon mal et mon bien, 
Que ne luy donniez-vous un coeur comme le mien, 
Ou que n'avez-vous fait le mien comme les autres.' 

" This sonnet was considered very good. The King 
praised it publicly — and that was enough to ensure 
general admiration. But it made no difference in the 



Louise de La Valli^re 235 

private affairs of its author ; all that Mme de La 
Valliere gained by it were fresh assurances that he 
would always feel the deepest esteem for her." 

A pity that we do not know the name of the poet 
who was kind enough to give La Valliere the graceful 
support of his Muse ! For Racine, La Fontaine, 
Moliere, kept all their flatteries for the haughty 
Montespan. It cannot possibly have been Benserade. 
Well, whoever it was, the delicate, felicitous sonnet 
will remain, in some sort, the swan-song of that true 
and disinterested passion. Before long the forsaken 
woman herself will be found thanking God for having 
refused her that perfect satisfaction in human love 
which might have filled her heart to the exclusion of 
His grace — for having, on the contrary, caused her to 
experience extreme ingratitude and very profound 
disappointment. 

Why did she stay, then .? Why did she endure life 
in common with a rival who obliged her to deck that 
rival's charms with her own hands ? The most 
sympathetic biographers of Louise de La Valliere have 
severely censured her for this attitude towards Mme 
de Montespan. But is it so difficult to divine the 
reason for it ? Her excuse is written in the Letters- 
Patent of May, 1667. 

The King held her by a chain stronger than a 
woman's passion for a man — namely, by the love of 
a mother for her son. The little boy, born at Saint- 
Germain in 1667, was not recognised until February, 
1669 — and then with evident reluctance.-^ No pro- 
vision for his future was made until the end of the 
year, when the King decided to confer upon him the 
post of Admiral of France, left vacant by the presumed 
death of M. de Beaufort. It was a remarkably clever way 

1 The Letters of Legitimation for the Comte de Vermandois have 
not hitherto been pubUshed. They are dated Feb. 20, 1669. 



236 Louise de La Valli^re 

of refusing it to every one else ! Previously, there was 
promulgated a Memoire pour sf avoir quel mm il est 
hesoin de donner a M. le comte de Vermandois, amiral 
de France. " These " (says the author, probably the 
learned Baluze) " are the different styles under which 
he may be known : Louis, Bastard of Bourbon, 
Comte de Vermandois, Admiral of France ? Louis, 
Bastard of France, Admiral of France ? Louis the 
Bastard, Comte de Vermandois ? Louis, legitimated of 
France ? Louis, natural son of the King ? Or merely 
Louis, Comte de Vermandois, Admiral of France ? " 

The last formula was the one adopted. Some said 
it was an improvement, since bastardy was no longer 
officially proclaimed. Others thought it a mistake, 
since it seemed to make no distinction between bastardy 
and legitimacy. The real reason for it was that the 
King already had another child who could not even be 
declared a bastard.^ The post of Admiral, given to the 
baby-Louis, brought no pecuniary advantage to his 
mother. Mme de La Valliere's good fortune con- 
tinued to be more apparent than actual. Vaujours 
brought in little ; most of the inhabitants were very 
poor, and its Duchess had a tender heart. Far from 
oppressing her vassals, she would often intercede 
for them herself. Moreover, the property was to go 
to her daughter to the exclusion of her son. To this 
intolerable situation Louise submitted for two long 
years — and that was her motive in doing so. . . But 
why was she retained at Court } 

A very expert observer of such matters, Bussy-Rabutin, 
points out convincingly the King's motive : " He 
needed a pretext for Mme de Montespan." All is said. 

People who prate of absolute power have no idea 

' Colbert, Lettres, Instructions, Memoires, v. VI. p. 272. M. Clement 
dates this document December, 1669 — a manifest error, since it is 
anterior to November 12. 



Louise de La Valliere 237 

of the amount of bother which a recalcitrant husband 
managed to give the greatest King in the world. As 
far as a mere mortal may, the Marquis had refused to 
" share " with Jupiter. He was an odd man, if you 
will, '* but he had plenty of wit," and he devised a 
most original revenge. The poet had given the 
innocent Alcmena a double Amphitryon ; the Marquis, 
on the contrary, made two wives out of one. He 
yielded to the King the adulterous one, for he had not 
been able to keep her ; the other — the Marquise — he 
buried in effigy. By his orders, the obsequies of Mme 
de Montespan were pompously celebrated ; he officially 
announced her death ; he wore mourning for her. It 
was a somewhat too-lugubriously facetious way of 
submitting to force majeure^ and was not reassuring 
either to the King or to his mistress. Montespan's 
name was mentioned as seldom as possible.-^ , A demand 
for separation from the outraged husband was 
attempted, wherein, by an audacious reversal of the 
parts, he was accused of injuries, cruelty, the dissipation 
of a fortune which he had never had ; but, powerful as 
was the complainant's protector, Royal justice lent a 
deaf ear, and the affair died a natural death. To avoid 
a greater scandal, Louise remained the official Royal 
mistress, and when the King went to Mme de Montes- 
pan, he went by way of Mme de La Valliere's room. 
The Court soon found the right witticism for this 
situation. It was said that Louis was going " to the 
Ladies^ It was one or the other of them — the Ladies, 
in fact ! Remarkably ingenious ! 

But ingenious as it was, it was not enough. Towards 

* In L'Etat de la France pour 1669, p. 69, the daughters of M. de 
Mortemart are enumerated, and Fran9oise de Rochechouart is cited, 
with no allusion to Montespan. Nevertheless, in the part relating to 
the Queen's Household, Mme de Montespan had to appear under her 
legal name. 



23^ Louise de La Valliere 

the month of March, 1669, Mme de Montespan 
had brought into the world a doubly adulterous son. 
Louis then at last realised to what depths he had 
descended in guilty love-affairs. When, some time 
ago, he had sent Colbert to take away La Valliere's 
children under cover of the night, his only cares had 
been for the reputation of his mistress and the preser- 
vation of a decent reserve towards the two Queens. 
Later on he had permitted, or rather ordered, Louise's 
confinements to take place at Vincennes or Saint- 
Germain. Such conduct was reprehensible, but at least 
it proved that no apprehension was felt as to the safety 
of the children. Marie-Therese, for all her jealousy, 
would have revenged herself only by lavishing maternal 
care upon the poor babies. But what might not an 
irate Marquis do ? The very thought was unnerving ! 
Mme de La Valliere was forced to cover the relations 
of the King and the Marquise by her presence at Court. 
But more could not be demanded of her — they could 
not expect her to have the children of her rival housed 
with her own. The ex-demoiselle de Pons, now Mme 
de Heudicourt — she whom we encountered during the 
early days of the Montespan-^ affair — offered her 
services. But Louis, though he might make use of 
this type of person, thoroughly despised and dis- 
trusted it. His mistress knew by experience that 
it is sometimes dangerous to show off one's friends, 
so with one mind they wanted to discover somebody 

' This Mme de Heudicourt had, later on, a somewhat troublesome 
adventure, in which her tendency towards the improper was fully 
revealed. Upon the point which now occupies our attention, hear 
Mme de Maintenon: "Mme de Heudicourt was in their confidence — 
and nothing on earth would have induced me to be in it to the extent 
she was" (Mme de Maintenon, Lettres historiques et edifiantes, 
V. II. p. 461). As Mme de Maintenon undertook to bring up the 
children born to the King and Mme de Montespan, one can only 
conclude that her friend was a degree worse — namely, a go-between 
all along. 



Louise de La Valli^re 239 

less compromised and more trustworthy. The sequel 
will show whether Athena'is, in her cleverness, was 
to be any more fortunate than La Valliere had been 
in her trustfulness. 

Mme de Heudicourt knew a woman approaching 
the thirties, much gifted by nature, much tormented 
by fortune, living on a tiny Court-pension ; of good 
enough origin, but somewhat reduced in social status 
by her marriage with " a sort of a man of letters," as 
they said at that time. Her name was Fran^oise 
d'Aubigne, or the widowed Madame Scarron. She 
was known to be indefatigably diligent, and (according 
to herself) entirely trustworthy, discreet, and " safe." 
She was needy, too, and burdened by an extravagant, 
pretentious, and incapable brother ; and, in La Valliere's 
day of glory, she had approached that lady with a 
petition — but without neglecting, either, the Marquise 
de Montespan, whom she often saw at the Hotel 
d'Albret. In a word, she was a most masterly woman ! 
And it was proposed to Madame Scarron that she 
should bring up secretly the adulterous children. 

If we believe what she said in after years, the prudent 
lady, far from jumping at the proposal of " this some- 
what peculiar honour," -^ refused it, '* saying that it 
did not suit her to bring up Mme de Montespan's 
children ; if they were the King's, and he desired it, 
he might surely have asked her himself." The King 
(if, again, we believe her version) did ask her, and 
it was not till then " that she took them to her house." 
But the truth is, whatever she may say, that in 1669 
this stage of negotiations — as if from one great power 
to another — was far from having^ been reached. Much 
more probably, our cautious friend made certain that 
the King believed the coming infant to be his offspring, 
and also that he urgently required the secret of its 
* The phrase is her own — but when was it written ? 



240 Louise de La Valli^re 

birth to be zealously guarded.^ Mme Scarron, who 
entered upon her functions about March, 1669, went 
and shut herself up at the end of the Rue Vaugirard — 
very resolute to answer no intrusive questions. And 
indeed it was a " peculiar honour " for a young widow, 
much courted by dashing men, to be given the 
charge of a new-born child, which she was to bring 
up as a mother and without one word of explanation, 
in a big house, surrounded by a big garden, with 
numerous servants, horses, carriages, at her disposal ! 
The very entrance to the mysterious abode was for- 
bidden to even intimate friends, even if those friends were 
women.^ Who then, did enter ? Undoubtedly, as the 
saying goes, this young widow was " unconventional." 

If she had felt any scruples, certain aristocratic 
examples would have shown her how superfluous 
such things were. 

At the beginning of the same year, M. de Mortemart, 
Mme de Montespan's father, had sold his post as First 
Gentleman of the Chamber for 800,000 livres, of which 
he used 400,000 " to pay his debts," and 400,000 
to buy for M. de Vivonne, his son, the Generalship 
of the Galleys. In addition, a quite gratuitous com- 
pensation was granted him — that of the Governorship 
of Paris. Hostile opinion, on the other hand, attributed 
a horrible remark to M. de Montespan's father. Some 
one spoke to him of his daughter-in-law's success with 
the man who was not his son, and he was reported 
to have said, " Thank Heaven, some good luck has 
come our way at last ! " But indeed the good Papa 

1 This point is put beyond all doubt by the Memoires of a dame de 
Saint-LoUiis : "There is no certain date for the King's commission to 
take care of Mme de Montespan's children; but it was done to hide 
the birth of the first" (Maintenon, Correspondance generate, v. I. p. 144; 
Memoires de La Fare, p. 229). 

2 M. Lemoine has discovered the exact situation of the house, and 
will ere long satisfy the curious on this interesting point. 



Louise de La Valli^re 241 

might well have anticipated the same accident, with 
very much less of solid profit attached to it ! 

And so at last everything was arranged to suit 
the King's pleasure, Louis now had all his replies 
ready. " Where was he going ? " To the Ladies. 
" Whence came this new-born child ? " From the 
Ladies. . . For, in fact, Louise and Mme de Montespan 
occupied the same room. This has long been re- 
garded as a mere caprice of the King, but in reality 
it was all compact of calculation and fear, while in 
La Valliere's conduct — generally classed as weak and 
cowardly — all was submission and maternal self-sacrifice. 

In truth, ever since the beginning of 1669, Louise 
had been living the strange life which she detested, 
yet accepted silently. The care of a Paris notary, 
Maitre Perard, whose literary culture was as deep 
as his legal knowledge, has preserved for us a very 
curious relic of this voluntary servitude : 

" The first of February, 1669, 

" In the presence of Jean Marot, Architect to the 
King, dwelling in the Faubourg Saint-Germain des 
Prez, rue Guisard {sic)^ who has agreed, promised, and 
promises by these presents to Mesdames la Duchesse 
de La Valliere and Marquise de Montespan, dwelling 
in the Pavilion of the Castle of the Thuilleryes, to 
make and complete well and duly as it behoves him 
four grottoes, that is, two for the said lady, Duchesse 
de La Valliere and two for Mme de Montespan, the 
whole in the abode at their Chasteau Viel of Saint- 
Germain en Laye. The arrangement made on con- 
dition of the sum of four thousand livres . . . the 
said sieur Marot acknowledges having received from 
the said ladies the sum of three hundred and thirty- 
three livres, six sols, eight den'iers, each her half, for 
which receipt . . . etc. At the said Pavilion of the said 

16 



242 



Louise dc La Valli^re 

year ]\ 
" Signed 



Ladies, in the year MVP 69, the first day of 

February. 

" L. DE La Valliere, 
" La M. de Montespan, 
'*Jean Marot, 



*'De Louvois,! 
" Chuppin, J 



notaries. 




/r ^'^ *x^^ &/ ^i 



} ^^ojzy^^^^^^^ — 










/'<!'<«* Cy^-y,^,^ 







*'0*. . -VHi 





CONTRACT FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF GROTTOES AT THE CASTLE OF 
SAINT-GERMAIN SIGNED BY MESDAMES LA VALLIERE AND MONTESPAN. 



Louise de La Valli^re 243 

Was it a mere chance ? or the effect of fixed 
habits of mind ? For the two signatures are wonder- 
fully characteristic of the two writers. Athena'is de 
Rochechouart takes her full title — la Marquise de 
Montespan ; the Duchesse de Vaujours signs her name 
merely — Louise de La Valliere. Again we retrieve 
our little violet, shy of being a Duchess ! And it 
is evident that she only joined in the arrangement 
to make Madame de Montespan 's action valid — for 
that lady was under her husband's coverture.^ 

While this moral immolation was going on, many 
songs were composed to an air taken from one of 
the Versailles ballets — those songs which were called 
contre-verites. One among them said, speaking of 
M. le Grand (the Grand Equerry, Louis d'Armagnac), 
who had a reputation for excessive naivete : 

" Pour Monsieur le Grand 
II est tout mystere 
Quand il est galant. 
11 a comme La Valliere 
L'esprit penetrant," 

Who wrote this song, with its allusion to Louise ? 
Who but the woman who had tried, but failed, to 
poison her — the Viper of the Mazarines — Olympe de 
Soissons ! 

^ G. GuiFFREY, Comptes de la maison du rot, v. I. pp. 344, 349. 
I have, with some trouble, reconstructed the plan of this little abode 
at Saint-Germain, where the King had a secret entrance, by a staircase 
of which he alone had the key. It was situated on the east, looking 
out on the Pavilion Henri-Quatre. 



CHAPTER IV 

1669 

IN 1669, after eight years of a life which, if she 
had read it in a novel, would have appeared to 
her over-drawn, Mme de La Valli^re was only- 
approaching her twenty-fifth year. A more ambitious 
woman would have lost her head now, whether she 
looked forward or backward — whether she considered 
her past obscurity and her present rank, or her past 
happiness and her present abandonment. But Louise's 
exquisite nature, which had kept her humble in pros- 
perity, kept her courageous in adversity. Nevertheless, 
now that the great days were over (the days which she 
had told herself were never to be over !) it was difficult 
for her to resume the path of duty once more — 
difficult at first, at any rate. Her family encouraged 
her to remain at Court. And she — fastidious, beauty- 
loving — had grown accustomed to sumptuous sur- 
roundings. In a word, she was a woman — and one 
whose pride had been wounded ; she was a Duchess, 
and the mother of two legitimated Royal children. 
Disillusion upon disillusion still awaited her ere she 
could perceive the truth. She set her heart upon 
gaining, by her own merit alone, those worldly successes 
and distinctions, that homage which was to vanish with 
the Sovereign's favour ! And to this end she grasped 
at all her ducal privileges, she spent carelessly all the 
money which Colbert — assuredly not carelessly ! — 

844 



Louise de La Valli^re 245 

supplied for her frequent demands. She loved fine 
jewels, and bought some of those which the Duchesse 
de Mazarin had left behind in her flight. But her 
extravagances were always in good taste, as we can 
judge by the following detail. She possessed at 
Carri^res, on the banks of the Seine, a beautifully 
arranged bathing-pavilion, with little rustic rooms, a 
table and seats made out of the grass-banks. And, 
after the bath, she and her friends would feast on 
cream and stale bread, just as the peasants in the 
neighbouring hut might be doing ! 



Then she took up another caprice. Her troubled 
mind had feeble impulses towards study, pretentions 
to philosophic knowledge, to religious controversy. 
Sincere as Louise's passion was, it had had, none the 
less, its natural effect — sin, in orthodox language, had 
obscured her faith . . . and a kind of " natural religion " 
was having its turn everywhere in the national mind ; 
kindly professors of the teaching of Gassendi were often 
substituted for a stern confessor. It was at this time 
that Madame Henriette herself declared that she felt 
she must seriously try to discover the true religion. 
Louise de La Valliere was affected by the wave of 
thought. She was naturally fond of learning new 
things. She had first read novels, then history ; now 
she took up the study — if one can so describe these 
feminine caprices — of the theories of Aristotle and 
Descartes. If we believe her, she did in the end 
become saturated with these philosophies. . . But we 
do not believe her ! 

At a time not precisely fixed for us, but certainly 
before May, 1670, Louise de La Valliere fell seriously 
ill. The nature of her malady we do not know. She 
seems to have attributed it to some contagion. Her 



246 Louise de La Valli^re 

friend, Mme de Montespan, her dear friend, Mme du 
Roure, and several other customers of the Voisin 
woman, may possibly have had some more definite idea 
of the cause. 

In a few days, almost suddenly, Louise went from 
health to illness, from illness to danger of death. In 
that supreme hour when the dying see their whole 
past lives in a flash of insight, this woman of twenty- 
five suddenly perceived herself as a heap of infamy, 
" unshriven, unannealed," and shrinking in the very 
shadow of death. " Like a poor criminal on the 
scaffold, she was impatient that all the gruesome 
preliminaries should be over." Everyone thought it 
was the last agony. She said herself : " The priests 
on one side of me, and the doctors on the other, 
seemed as doubtful about my soul's recovery as about 
my body's . . . and I, like some poor animal, could 
do nothing to help myself." Then, from the very 
depths of her heart, she implored Heaven's pity, and 
Heaven's pity descended upon her. The young 
woman — the young mother ! — felt that exquisite sen- 
sation, sweet to all living things, and especially to young 
things, of a joyous rebound towards healthful life. 

And, health restored, the malady shaken off as 
suddenly as it had fastened upon her,^ Louise resolved 
to offer all to God. An indulgent confessor was ready 
to admit her to Communion, but her delicate soul, with 
some return of its youthful piety, could feel nothing 
but its own unworthiness. The favourite, the King's 
mistress, the dear woman whom nobody had ever 
dared to malign, now maligned herself. She sent away 
the " weak, time-serving, and prevaricating confessor, 
who thought more of pleasing than of saving her " ; 
she refused that too-facile absolution which could have 

^ In three days La Vallidre was much better, and could write her 
Reflexions. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 247 

given her only a deceptive tranquillity. " How, O 
Lord, can I offer you a pure and acceptable sacrifice 
when my mind is still full of the vanities of this world, 
and my heart is still instinct with its passion ? How 
can I, without profaning you, invite you to share a 
heart which, but an hour ago, was possessed by your 
dearest foes ? 

" Give me that contrite and broken heart which 
you will never despise ; O Lord, of your holy grace 
inspire me with the feelings of that poor woman of 
Canaan who came and prostrated herself at your feet, 

" Regard me as you regarded that humble stranger 
— like a poor dog that thinks itself happy to pick up 
the crumbs which fall from the table of your elect. 

" Look with pity on this poor sinner, who, still 
burning with the flame of her desires, asks you, like 
the woman of Samaria, for a drop of that living water 
which will slake her thirst, and make her no more 
long for sinful things. 

" But, above all, look upon me always as you 
looked on Magdalen ; let me, like that holy and 
repentant saint, water your feet with my tears- -that, 
in trying to love you much, 1 may try also to efface 
the multitude of my offences." 



Does the reader remember the confession of Mme 
de Longueville, made in 1661, when Louise was 
returning to Paris after her first visit to Fontainebleau ? 
We retrieve the same penitent cries which escaped 
from the lips of the great Conde's proud and fiery- 
souled sister, upon the lips of the meek La Valliere. 
Only God can tell the heart ; but, to human perception, 
Louise's penitence is, if not more sincere, at any 
rate much more simple. Mme de Longueville dissects 
herself, analyses her scruples, accuses herself of not 



248 Louise de La Valli^re 

accusing herself enough or else too much, of not 
humbling herself enough or else of too greatly- 
humbling herself for pure joy in doing so. 

Louise nearly always expresses herself with perfect 
spontaneity". She has escaped from imminent death, 
but she is still prone in the bed which had begun 
to seem like her coffin — and she writes down with 
her own hand the list of God's mercies towards her. 

Her reflections are easily summed up. She asks for 
a firm and lively faith, a faith which shall prove itself 
by its works. 

She asks for the gift of charity. " May such charity 
as 1 implore you to have towards me be always 
the measure of my own towards my neighbours ; may 
I love their souls more than my own life ! " 

She prays to God for greater fervour in prayer. 
Then her mind fastens on that death which has let 
her go this time, but which will take her quite away 
some future day. 

" Ah ! Lord, thou who never performest a miracle 
without some purpose, is it not to work out thy 
gracious ends in my soul that thou hast restored me 
to life ! 

" Yea, Lord, I behold thy grace in thy very 
justice. I feel thy watchful eye upon my soul, even 
in all the accidents of my life. 

" For this is why thou hast afflicted me, why thou 
troublest me now, and changest all my desires and 
all my feelings, so that hardly can I recognise myself 
in myself. 

" And this is why, after having sworn to serve thee 
and love thee, to die a thousand deaths rather than 
fall back into my former errors, I write this paper 
with my own hand, as a register of thy mercies, 
of my most secret and profound resolves, and of all 
thy adorable realities ; 



Louise de La Valli^re 249 

*' In order that, if ever I shall forget myself, I may 
find myself again in this sketch which, in thy gracious 
mercy, thou permittest me to make of what I wish 
to be ; 

" In order that, when the vain pomps of this world 
shall whisper to me of those fooHsh hopes which have 
so often deceived me, I may repulse them in the 
full consciousness of their real value — that is, regarding 
them as I regard them now, and as I shall certainly 
regard them in the hour of my death. 

*' In order that if I ever do come to forget that 
moment of my agony and thy justice, when, like 
a poor criminal on the scaffold, I longed for all to 
end at once — I may remember it again by reading 
this paper in that same bed where the doctors on 
one side and the priests on the other seemed as 
doubtful about my soul's recovery as about my body's 
. . . and I, like some poor animal, could do nothing to 
help myself. 

'* Yes, Lord, I write with my own hand this 
short record of thy mercies and of the justice of 
thy judgments upon all sinners, in order that 
I may read in it for ever my sentence of eternal 
reprobation if I should abuse thy goodness to me ; 
and the certitude of my salvation and the eternal 
joy of thy presence if I am faithful to thee now. . . 

" O God of my salvation, you who hold my soul 
and my hope of eternity in your hands ; you who 
have come to save me from the dust of the tomb, 
you who crown me with mercies, and fill my soul 
with holy longings, renewing its strength like an 
eagle's ; 

" O you, my God ! who in the greatness of my 
crime find the measure of your mercies, and who 
alone can convert sinners — convert my heart ; 

'* Because my soul is humbled, and the grievousness 

/ 



250 Louise de La Valli^re 

of having displeased you stabs me with fear and 
pain ; 

" Because my soul has put all its trust in you, and 
knows nothing henceforth here below but yearning 
for your dear presence — for all this, O Lord, have 
pity on me, for I am poor and miserable, and you are 
infinitely rich and merciful." 

It has been thought that these reflections dated only 
from a few months before Louise's admission to the 
Carmelite Convent. That is a mistake. If, in her conva- 
lescence, she thought at all of those pious, secluded 
women, it was but as a contrast to herself, " a poor 
creature still earth-bound." The whole work proves that 
when she was writing it, Louise had never thought of 
any such retreat. On the contrary : *' It will be in a 
circle which cares only for its own interests that I 
shall henceforth affirm that you are my God, the 
sole and only adorable one. . . I shall tell them 
that my fortune is in your hands, and that, when you 
have finished the work of converting me, I shall be 
prouder than if I had conquered the whole world. 

my God ! create in me a new heart ... a truly 
Christian heart, which will make me love you when 

1 shall have to risk my fortune and my life in the 
confession of your name, and render homage to that 
Divine Madness of the Cross, in the midst of a country 
and a nation which regard it as a scandal." 

It is still a woman of the world who speaks there ! 
She insists that she has sinned " by the vivacity of 
her mind." Witty sayings " which prick and wound 
one's neighbours, delicate detractions which, under 
the mask of raillery, define faults and make them 
indelibly ridiculous — " these are the " darling sins " of 
which this inoffensive woman accuses herself. This 
La Valliere, so discreet and so modest, who never 
asked for anything for herself or for her people, who 



Louise de La Valli^re 251 

blushed to be a Duchess, says again : " Let me not 
imagine that I am devoid of pride and self-conceit 
simply because I despise the world, and wish to owe 
to my own merit alone the distinctions which fortune 
refuses me." 

Other passages, less feverish and more truly 
Christian, equally demonstrate that, at this epoch 
of her life, Louise thought herself called upon to 
remain at Court : 

" If, to impose upon me a penitence in some sort 
commensurable with my offences, you demand that 
my ineludible duty should be to remain in the world, 
and suffer there on the very scaffold where I have 
so deeply angered you, if you wish to make my sin 
its own punishment by turning into my heart's 
torturers those who have been its idols, then Paratum 
cor meum, Deus ! paratum cor meum ! But stay by 
me therein, and cause my anguish to keep me from 
being poisoned by the contagious air of every day, 

" Yea, Lord, however I may be obliged to consort 
with the professional libertines who can do nothing 
to us but breathe irreligion into our souls, tarnish the 
most spotless reputation, and give us a presumptuous 
opinion of ourselves . . . however great may be the 
disgust I feel for their minds and persons, I shall be 
faithful, O my God ! I shall guard myself as closely as 
I may from intercourse and friendship with them. For 
is it not the least that I can render unto you for having 
so loved me, to hate the company of those who do 
not love you } 

" Lord, who can do as you will with the hearts of 
men, change all my friendships. . . For you know. 
Lord, how easily I am impressed by what I see, 
with how much facility I do good with the good, and 
evil with the evil. 

" For, alas ! I am so weak and so vacillating that 



252 Louise de La Valli^re 

my best desires are like that flower of the field which 
your Prophet-King describes — saying that it flowers 
in the morning and in the evening is withered. 

" Be not content with having taught me to detest 
this world, since I avoid it rather from pride and reason 
than from the pure impulse of your heavenly grace. 
Preserve me from the sweet poison of success in this 
world, which might make me love it." 

One passage from her Reflexions suffices to prove 
that Louise had suffered this remorseful reaction long 
before her retreat to the Carmelites — in fact shortly 
after the King's desertion of her : 

" Permit me not, my God, to be sure of myself 
merely because 1 am disgusted with my sin, while all 
the time I am cherishing still the exquisite memory of 
my passion ; 

*' Let me not delude myself into believing that I 
no longer love the object, because I now look only for 
harmless joys from his friendship ; 

" Nor imagine that I have died to my passion, 
yet all the while feel it more profoundly than ever 
for the being whom I love more than myself — and 
the more dangerously because my friendship, while 
seeking to justify me, prevents me from listening 
to my reason, and following the holy inspiration of 
your grace." 

Whom does she love more than herself.? For 
whom does her passion continually revive .? It is 
Louis whom she still loves — Louis, who is wild with 
desire for the Montespan. That "friendship" for 
which she blames herself is — O mystery of the heart 
of woman ! — the friendship which her excess of gentle- 
ness puts at the service of her rival and her unfaithful 
lover. 

Very probably these Reflexions^ which were written 
in the course of a few days, afterwards underwent 



Louise de La Valli^rc 253 

many alterations and additions, but one feels that the 
original features have not been overlaid, and that they 
faithfully portray La Valliere's state of mind and 
soul at the time when, to adopt her own phrase, " God 
showed her her sin." 

She was inexperienced in such mental states, and, in 
her rashness, she thought it right to try to expiate her 
error in the very place of its commission. That was 
a presumptuous and overstrained attitude — presump- 
tuous, because it is not given to us to choose our own 
mode of expiation. Louise, her pride not yet entirely 
humbled, aspired to undergo her punishment *' on the 
scaffold of the Court." But Heaven, sterner in one 
way, kinder in another, had already decided that she 
should have for her place of repentance a mere convent- 
cell. 

We have a valuable piece of testimony as to this 
new and critical phase of Louise de La Valliere's 
life. The Princess Palatine, Monsieur's second wife, 
asked her the very question which, even still, the finer 
spirits ask themselves as they read her story. *' I was 
curious," says the Princess, " to know why she had 
remained so long at Court as a sort of attendant, so 
to speak, upon the Montespan. She told me that God 
had touched her heart, had shown her her sin, and 
that then she had thought she must do penance and 
suffer in the way which hurt her most — and that 
was, to watch the King's heart turn away from her, 
and disdain take the place in it which love once had 
filled. In the three years after her love-affair with the 
King, she had suffered like one of the damned, and 
she had offered up all her anguish to God in expiation 
of her past sins ; for, since her sins had been public, her 
penance must be public too. They thought her an un- 
observant fool at the very time when she was suffering 
the most terribly ; and she went on suffering until 



254 Louise de La Valli^rc 

God had turned her heart to serve Him alone, which 
she thenceforth did." 

These three years after her love-affair with the King 
were evidently reckoned by La Valliere from 1670 
onwards. Did she forget, then, the three which had 
begun in 1667, at latest? Analysts of the human 
heart can now in some sort understand that of the 
unhappy woman who was taken for a fool, while 
she was suffering " like one of the damned." 



CHAPTER V 

JANUARY, 1670 DECEMBER, 167O 

IF the forsaken Louise de La Valli^re had any illusion 
of pleasing the world by her nobility, or the Court 
by her example of a Christian life, it was destined 
to be quickly dispelled. The world dismissed her in the 
twinkling of an eye. All the homage and all the solicita- 
tions were for Mme de Montespan, and that clever lady 
did not ward them ofF, as her reserved rival had been 
wont to do. Louise was similarly disillusioned as 
regards the eifect of example. Far from admiring her 
disinterestedness, the sceptical Court pretended to 
believe that she was aiming at a fine establishment, 
after the manner of Royal favourites. Names of 
future husbands were quoted, among them that of 
Lauzun, the most unlikely of all. 

It was only at the time of Louise's disenchant- 
ment — certainly a little late in life — that the need 
to love and to be loved seized upon Mademoiselle 
de Montpensier, that ambitious Princess who, in 1661, 
when she was giving children's dances to her young 
sisters and to la petite La Valliere, was already 
called La Grande Mademoiselle. She had spent fifteen 
years of her life in provoking, in repulsing, and in 
regretting innumerable Royal and Princely offers of 
marriage. The King of England was not sufficiently 
firm upon his throne ; the King of Portugal was 
not nearly courteous enough ; the Duke of Lorraine 

25s 



256 Louise de La Valli^re 

had let the ramparts of his capital so utterly fall into 
ruin that he was no longer marriageable at all — and 
then, all of a sudden, the unfortunate lady felt an 
ardent desire for marriage. She reasoned with herself 
about it (for she mentioned it to no one), and said, 
" It is no longer a vague feeling — I feel 1 must love 
some one." But she could not find out who it was. 
She searched, dreamed, but still could not find out, until 
at last, after all this restlessness, she realised that the 
invader of her heart was M. de Lauzun. 

We have already met Lauzun, the lover of Mme de 
Monaco and many others, the man who had crushed 
his mistress's hand under the heel of his boot — yet, 
after all, a witty, brave, fantastic, original kind of 
creature. It was natural enough that La Grande 
Mademoiselle, in her fortieth year, should take a fancy 
to this dazzling, carelessyouth ; she now wanted nothing 
except to love and be loved by such a husband. Poor 
Princess ! nobody had shown much affection for her. 
She wanted, once in her life, to taste the sweetness of 
being loved by some one worth loving. She found 
that she liked to see and talk to Lauzun, and that the 
days when she did not see him were very dull indeed. 
She persuaded herself — this forty-year-old sentimentalist 
— that her adored one felt the same, but did not dare 
to tell her so.^ And, still more delightful thought ! 
those relations of hers would lose all hope of inheriting 
her fortune. 

She approached Lauzun insidiously — discussed ideals 
with him, the question of the right choice in marriage. 
Lauzun, amazed, uncertain, cautious, said enough to 
show that he had understood, then changed the 

^ Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, Mhnoires, v. IV. pp. 92-4. To those 
who enjoy the study of the same individual's point of view at different 
periods, we cordially recommend the reading of the passage relating 
to this adventure, in the earlier and later editions (Cheruel edition 
for the later) of the Memoires de Mademoiselle de Montpensier. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 257 

subject, and emulated Mademoiselle in talking 
nonsense. 

In the midst of all this, the Court set out (April 28, 
1670) for Flanders. At Noyon, the Princess again 
begged Lauzun to help her in that serious difficulty — 
the choice of a husband. His reply was evasive : the 
journey was the important question just then. She asked 
no more, " counting M. de Lauzun's presence enough." 

But there were vexations, nevertheless. Near 
Landrecies, a river in flood obliged the Court to take 
refuge in a miserable hovel. There was only one 
bed. Some mattresses were spread on the ground : 
" What I " cried Marie-Therese, " are we all to sleep 
in the same room .? How horrible ! " The King and 
Mademoiselle pleaded absolute necessity. The Queen 
lay down on the bed, in such a position that she could 
see the whole room. " You need only leave your 
curtain undrawn," said the King, somewhat sharply. 
" You will see us all just as well." Truly it was a 
quaint roomful 1 Monsieur first took a mattress, then 
Madame, then the King, then Mademoiselle, beside 
her Louise de La Valliere, and lastly Mme de 
Montespan. It was this last lady's presence which dis- 
gusted Marie-Therese ; for, by this time, her suspicions 
were unerring— and inevitable. But Louise, freed 
from her jealousy, was nevertheless not wholly at ease 
in that respect, Somebody else was jealous now of 
the poor lady, and that was Mademoiselle. Gaston's 
daughter had — to quote her own phrase — felt that 
unhappy passion glide into her heart simultaneously 
with her love. " A silly rumour " had been circulated 
that Lauzun wanted to marry the Duchesse de La 
Valliere. A few days after the extraordinary night 
at Landrecies, the Princess lost control of herself, and 
indirectly questioned Lauzun. " No," replied that 
virtuous person ; " whenever the idea was suggested 

17 



25^ Louise de La Valli^re 

to me, I invariably rejected it. My one stipulation in 
marriage wouJd be that the lady should be chaste. 
If there had ever been the slightest divagation from 
that ideal, 1 would not have her — even if she were 
yourself, who are above us all." 

And the silly woman cried, " Is that really true ? 
If it is, I like you better than ever. . . Fm quite — 
quite . . . good I " 

Less than six weeks later, this great passion displayed 
itself in its true colours. The Court being at Calais, 
there was whispered a rumour that the King of England 
was about to repudiate his wife, and that he wanted 
to marry Mile de Montpensier. Louis spoke of it 
to the Princess, who placed herself at his orders. 
Monsieur thought it a splendid idea, and Mme de 
Montespan considered it charming. The Duchesse 
de La Valliere said nothing. Marie-Therese, the most 
honourable-minded person there, was the only one 
who said the right word, and she said it instantly and 
sincerely : " It would be horrible," she cried. But 
nobody cared what Marie-Ther^se said. As for 
Lauzun, he declared that he wished to goodness it 
was all settled — and Mademoiselle tried to persuade 
herself that he did not mean what he said. 

The vague project soon faded into thin air ; love 
again triumphed over ambition, and jealousy followed 
hard on love. Despite the talk at Avesnes, Made- 
moiselle was still uneasy about those horrid rumours of 
Lauzun's marriage to the Duchesse de La Valliere. 
Desperately desiring reassurance, she entered on the 
subject with Mme de Nogent, Lauzun's sister. "Are 
you not very much vexed by the gossip about your 
brother ? " And clever Mme de Nogent declared 
that they had made her utterly wretched. 

Never was woman in love more persistently jealous. 
Back in Paris, she met the Chevalier de La HiUierc, 



Louise de La Valli^re 259 

a mere Lieutenant of the Guard in M. de Lauzun's 
Company. He was a most insignificant person, but he 
had just been dining with his chief, and she could 
not resist the temptation of making him talk. 

" What," said she, *' is this gossip about his marrying 
the Duchesse de La Valliere .? " " He spoke of it 
to me this very day," replied La Hilli^re, " and said, 
in so many words : ' I am furious with the people 
who talk like that ; the King has never dishonoured 
anybody — would he be likely to begin with me } ' " 

This reply gave Mademoiselle evident pleasure, but 
nevertheless she persisted in being jealous of Louise, 
while she tolerated everything, even liked everything, 
about the Montespan — and the Court followed her 
lead. 



While Mademoiselle was absorbed in Lauzun, and 
Lauzun in his unexpected stroke of luck ; while the 
King devoted himself alternately to Mme de Montespan 
and to his designs on Holland ; while La Valliere, 
forsaken and despised and cruelly entreated, struggled 
between her longing for retirement and her duty 
towards her family — Death came among them, and 
gave them all a solemn warning. 

On Sunday, June 29, 1670, Mademoiselle was 
regretfully finishing one of her love-confidences to 
Lauzun's sister, when the Due d'Ayen, suddenly meet- 
ing her, cried, " Madame is dying ! " Instantly Made- 
rnoiselle got into her carriage. But a little farther on 
she met the Queen. *' Madame is dying," said Marie- 
Th6rese, " she is dying, and do you know what she 
says .^ That she believes she has been poisoned." 
Bad news travels fast. All the details were already 
known. Madame had been in the salon at Saint-Cloud, 
apparently in good health ; she had drunk a glass of 



26o Louise de La Valli^re 

chicory-water, and a quarter of an hour later had 
exclaimed that she felt a consuming fire in her entrails — 
'*it was killing her." 

It was only too true. Death had seized upon her 
just when she was beginning to hope that, free from 
Court-frivolities, she might be able to make valuable 
use of her many fine qualities. She had lately returned 
from England, surrounded with all the joy and triumph 
resulting from a journey which had been undertaken 
for friendship's sake, and was now crowned with 
complete success ; " she knew herself to be, at twenty- 
six years of age, the bond between the two greatest 
Kings of their time." ^ Her beauty and charm were 
enhanced by her evident happiness ; in truth, she 
seemed, even to indifferent eyes, as lovely as an angel. 
Everybody, except Monsieur, had been paying homage 
to the new influence — as fragile as mortal life ! 
Madame had had much to bear during her trip — fatigue, 
sleepless nights ; and the sea-voyage had tried her 
constitution to such a degree that she had not yet entirely 
recovered from its effects. One symptom (often cited) 
was that she could not bear the sight of strawberries. 
But, always imprudent, she trifled with her precarious 
health, as she had been used to do with her reputation, 
which indeed had been saved only by dint of charm, 
grace, and sincerity. 

June was nearly over. The exquisite weather re- 
called the glorious summer of 1661, and Saint-Cloud 
had proved as ineffective now as Fontainebleau had 
done then, to shade its guests from the too-importunate 
rays of a burning sun. Henrietta bathed, against her 
doctor's orders, walked late by moonlight, yet com- 

' Histoire de Madame Henriette, p. 165 and seg. The first part of 
the book — that dictated and sometimes written by Madame in 1669 (see 
Preface by Mme de La Fayette) — ends with the year 1665. The 
second part begins in June, 1670. 



Louise de La Valliere 261 

plained all the time of a pain in the side. On the 
morning of Sunday, June 29, although she had had 
a good night, she said to her confidante, Mme de La 
Fayette, that she felt very cross ; but " her bad humour 
would have been the good humour of any other woman, 
she was naturally so gentle." 

At that time no one knew, but now every one 
knows, what was making Madame "cross," She had 
been obliged to write to a Princess who was trying to 
reconcile her with Monsieur. Let us read this letter, 
which almost represents her last will and testament : 
" I was sure," she wrote, *' that on my return I should 
find everybody in good humour, but things are worse 
than ever." She had been charged by Monsieur to 
obtain from Charles II. (i) an agreement about all 
the matters in dispute between Charles and himself — 
granted ; (2) a pension for his son — almost promised ; 
(3) the return of the Chevalier de Lorraine (to be 
solicited from Louis XIV.) — declined, though an 
asylum in England was offered to the Chevalier. So 
that, on the whole, her mediation had not been un- 
fruitful. But " Monsieur would listen to nothing, so 
long as they refused him his Chevalier ; " and then 
Madame declared, " They will get nothing from me 
by force." 

" The only thing for me to do," she added, " is to 
wait and see what Monsieur desires. If he wishes me 
to act, I shall do so with the greatest pleasure, for I 
know no true happiness unless he is pleased with me. 
If not, I shall keep that silence which will be the only 
possible course for me in such circumstances, expecting 
him, as I do, to torment me in every way that he can 
devise. I shall not defend myself, except by trying 
to give him no cause for blame. Hatred is an affair 
of choice, but esteem is not ; and I venture to say that 
if I suffer from the one without having deserved it, 



262 Louise de La Valliere 

I am not absolutely unworthy of the other, for many 
reasons ; and this confirms me to some extent in the 
hope that he may have some kinder feeling for me 
later on." ^ 

With this consolatory reflection, she closed her letter 
and went to Mass. On her return, she went to see an 
English artist (Lely ?) who was painting her daughter 
and husband. Then, being a little tired, she fell 
asleep. During her slumber she changed so consider- 
ably that Mme de La Fayette, who had not left her, 
and could now observe her at leisure, was amazed, and 
reflected that her mind must have added much to the 
beauty of her face, since it was so charming when she 
was awake, and so plain when she was asleep — an effect 
which may have been peculiar to that day, but is in- 
contestable, for other people noticed the same thing.* 

Madame, when she awoke about five o'clock in the 
evening, looked so ill that Monsieur himself remarked 
on it. The pain in her side persisted. Almost im- 
mediately she asked for, and was handed by Mme de 
Gourdon, a glass of chicory-water which had been 
fetched by Mme de Gamaches. She drank it, and 
immediately put her hand to her side, crying, "Ah ! 
the pain — I can't bear it ! " She flushed, turned pale 
— then livid. They lifted her as if she were a broken 
thing, and, once in bed, she writhed with agony. The 
first doctor who was called, M. Esprit, thought it was 
colic ; but Henrietta assured him that he was mistaken 
— she was going to die ; and she asked for a confessor. 
Then, turning to her husband, she embraced him, and 
with a gentleness that was infinitely touching, "Alas! 
Monsieur," she said, " you have long ceased to love 

1 Ravaisson, Archives de la Bastille^ v. IV. pp. 33, 36 ; Guy-Patin, 
Lettres, v. III. p. 364, speaks of the mediation of the Princess Palatine 
as dating from April 8, 1670. He alludes to it as being even then 
successful. He was quite mistaken. 

* D'Ormesson, Journal, v. II. p. 593. 



Louise de La Valli^re 263 

me ; but you are unjust. I have never failed you." 
Monsieur seemed much moved. She had been im- 
prudent — but was he blameless ? The hour of expia- 
tion was sounding for every one, and for him first 
of all. 

Suddenly Madame cried that "they must examine 
the water she had drunk from — it was poisoned ; 
somebody must have made a mistake in the bottles." ^ 
She was sure she was poisoned — she felt that, and 
asked for an antidote. At this, Mme de La Fayette 
could not help glancing at Monsieur. But Philippe, 
quite untroubled, ordered that some of the water 
should be given to a dog. He even drank some of 
it himself. The instinctive distrust which surrounded 
him was a fit punishment for the many outrageous 
remarks he had made — as, for instance, that his wife 
was dying, and that a witch had told him he should 
be twice married. The Court, the country, nay, all 
Europe, felt the same uneasy suspicion ; and posterity 
long looked with a doubtful eye on Monsieur's 
memory. Madame persisted in thinking that she had 
been poisoned, and she seemed to think it might have 
been intentional. When Sainte-Foi, Monsieur's head 
valet-de-chambre^ brought her the antidote (some 
powder of vipers) she said that she would take it from 
his hand, because she trusted him. ^ 

But the cure de Saint-Cloud had heard Henrietta's 
confession. When it was finished, she said in a low 
voice to her husband some words which no one else 

1 Histoire de Madame Henriette, p. 174. Bossuet reports that 
Madame said to the Mar6chal de Grammont that she believed she 
had been poisoned by mistake (Lettre de Bossuet; Floquet, Etudes 
sur la vie de Bossuet, v. III. p. 416), 

^ Histoire de Madame Henriette, pp. 175, 193 ; L'£tat de la France 
pour i66g, p. 405, mentions as belonging to Monsieur's household, 
among the four valets-de-chambre, sleeping in the house and having 
the keys of the coffers, Jacques Thivol, M. de Sainte-Foy. His wages 
were 600 livres a year. His quarter was from April to June. 



264 Louise de La Valli^rc 

could hear, but which seemed gentle and affectionate. 
Drawing nearer every moment to that tribunal where 
none may dare to lie, she now again asseverated that she 
had never failed in her duty as a wife. She believed 
that she had been poisoned, but she never dreamed 
of accusing her husband of the crime. By Philippe's 
orders, the bells of the church at Saint-Cloud were 
rung, the Canons were assembled. Prayers for the Sick 
were said. Three hours later two more physicians 
arrived, Vallot and Gueslin. As soon as Madame saw 
the latter, in whom she had great confidence, she told 
him that she had been poisoned, and that he must treat 
her accordingly. However, after consultation, the 
three doctors asserted " on their lives " that there was 
no danger. Monsieur hastened to tell Madame. She 
answered as at first, " that she knew how ill she was 
better than the doctors did, and that there was no cure 
for her " — and that with as much composure and 
gentleness *' as if she had been speaking of an in- 
different matter." Her suffering was so great, though, 
that she wished to die. " If I were not a Christian, I 
should kill myself" 

At eleven o'clock, the King, the Queen, Mme de 
Soissons, and Mademoiselle de Montpensier, arrived. 
Then came those two who were called the Ladies — the 
Marquise de Montespan and Louise de La Valliere, 
chained together, as usual. The Marechal de 
Grammont, M. de Quiche's father, entered at the same 
moment. And thus, present or represented, we meet 
again the dramatis persona of all the intrigues we have 
narrated, which had been so momentous to those con- 
cerned when life was lusty in their veins, but now 
were paled into such miserable insignificance before the 
presence of death. By the time these visitors arrived, 
Madame had already been obliged to leave her state- 
couch. She was on a little bedstead, her hair hanging 



Louise de La Valli^re 265 

loose about her — for there had been no time to arrange 
it for the night — her garments unfastened at the neck 
and arms. She was so emaciated, so pale, so shrunken, 
that they might have thought her dead if she had not 
exclaimed, " Look at the state I am in ! " At her 
words, the tears came to everybody's eyes. 

In such supreme moments, character is fully revealed. 
The King was kind and full of feeling, though 
more composed than those around him. Madame 
said — and he knew how true it was — that he was 
losing the most faithful servant he had ever had ; 
and when, to encourage her, he praised her fortitude, 
" You know," she said, " that I have never been 
afraid of death, but only of losing your good graces." 
Louis then spoke to her of God, and, with further 
eulogy of her courage, recommended her to be sub- 
missive in the hour of death ; later, by Monsieur's 
advice, he ordered that some one should fetch Bossuet, 
and that all preparations for the Last Communion 
should be made. When he left her, Henrietta em- 
braced him tenderly, and said a last confidential word 
to him. Seeing his eyes full of tears, she begged him 
not to weep, for it would grieve her too much. She 
added then : " The first news you will hear to-morrow 
will be of my death." ^ Those were her last words 
to the King. She also embraced the Queen, who 
had been very kind to her since she had grown 
more serious. Marie-Therese, indeed, was the only 
person who had nothing to reproach herself for in 
connection with the errors of Madame's young life — 
now so suddenly cut short. 

Mademoiselle, who did not like invalids, pretended to 
be so overcome that she could not approach Madame. 
She said her good-bye from the foot of the bed. 

1 M. Floquet is wrong in saying that she asked at once for " Monsieur 
de Condom ! Monsieur de Condom ! " {£,tudes^ v. HI. p. 393), 



266 Louise de La Valli^re 

Moreover, she was officiously busy, for no one, in her 
opinion, was sufficiently distressed — no one would 
have thought of anything if it had not been for her ! 
But, at bottom, her sole preoccupation was with the 
effect which this event was going to have upon her 
own destiny. She was scarcely back at Versailles, and 
Henrietta was still alive, when " This is disconcerting 
for us," she remarked to Lauzun. 

The Mar^chal de Grammont, who had also come to 
Saint-Cloud, drew near. Madame, as if to excuse 
herself for the anxiety she had caused this honest 
gentleman by her intrigues with his son, M. de Guiche, 
spoke a gentle word to him and told him that he was 
losing a good friend. She added that at first she had 
thought that she had been poisoned by mistake. 
Doubtless the asseverations of the doctors had caused 
her to change her mind. 

Were any words exchanged between Henrietta and 
Mme de Soissons, who had been successively her ally, 
her rival, and her accomplice — corrupt and perverse, 
though, while Madame was nothing worse than giddy ^ 
And did Henrietta find anything to say to her former 
Maid-of-Honour ? The contemporary memoirs do not 
report any such conversations. The Italian woman, as 
was proved later on, was not a person to lose her head 
over a poisoning ; but what can have been the thoughts, 
what the feelings, in the upright mind and tender 
heart of La Valli^re, when she saw the sudden cutting- 
down of that Princess who had been the cause of her 
elevation and of her error ! 

" O Death, how cruel is thy coming to those who 
have never thought on thee, whose hopes have been 
wholly set upon the things of this world ! O Death, 
how terrible thou art to those whose joys end with life, 
and whose fears and agonies begin but with thee ! "^ 
1 Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, v. I. p. 97, 23rd Reflection. 



Louise de La Valli^re 267 

These reflections, made by Louise when she herself 
was at the gates of death, must have been recalled to 
her with overwhelming force at the spectacle of this 
frightful agony ! 

At last the crowd of visitors, both sympathetic and 
indifferent, retired. There stayed near Madame only 
her chaplain and M. Feuillet. Her ordinary con- 
fessor, this chaplain, the Reverend Father Chrysostom,^ 
was a Capuchin with a handsome beard, who cut a 
striking figure in the official escorts ; but it was no 
moment then to think of appearances, and, while he 
was somewhat confusedly wandering on, the dying 
woman suddenly begged him to let M, Feuillet speak 
— then, lest this should hurt his feelings, Henrietta, 
gentle to the last, added kindly, " You shall speak 
later." It was then eleven o'clock at night. 

Feuillet was an austere man, and so plain-spoken 
that he had been prohibited from preaching, but he 
was full of zeal. He was very sceptical on the subject 
of death-bed repentances, and therefore did everything 
he could to excite genuine contrition in the soul of the 
woman who was soon to appear before the Sovereign 
Tribunal. 

" Madame, your life has been all sin. You must 
use the little time you have left to you in repentance." 

'* Show me how to do it — hear my confession, I 
beseech you." And then Henrietta confessed again, 
and God inspired her with feelings which surprised 
her confessor. She spoke in a wholly spiritual 
strain, earnestly asking to be allowed to receive the 

For a long time Louise and Madame had been on very good terms, 
witness this article in the Comptes de la maison du rot, v. I. p. 359 : 
" To the sieicr Nocret, for a portrait of Madame la Duchesse d'Orleans, 
which he painted and hung over the fireplace in Mme de La Valliere's 
small room." 

1 Jean Chrysostome d'Amiens, Capuchin, confessor and preacher- 
in-ordinary {Rtat de la France pour j66g, v. \. p. 434). 



268 Louise de La Valli^re 

Holy Sacrament. While some one went to fetch the 
cure^ Feuillet loudly resumed : 

*' Humble yourself, Madame, beneath the mighty 
hand of God, which can destroy all human greatness. 
You are but a miserable sinner, but an earthen vessel 
broken in pieces — of all your glories, there remains not 
a trace." 

" 'Tis true, O my God," said the dying woman. 

Her anguish touched the stern priest, and he spoke 
some gentler words. They consoled Henrietta ; her 
dying eyes lit up. Then she asked for the cross which 
the Queen- mother had used on her death-bed, and 
kissed it very humbly. 

The English Ambassador, Lord Montagu, had been 
one of the first to hasten to his Sovereign's sister. He 
was not in the Royal confidence with regard to the 
negotiations now proceeding against the Triple Alliance ; 
but Madame, by some guarded admissions, had 
contrived to render his position less embarrassing. 
Now that death seemed so near, she charged him to 
tell King Charles that, in persuading him to the French 
Alliance, she had been convinced all along that his 
honour and profit were bound up with those of the 
King of France. Lord Montagu then asked if she 
did not think she had been poisoned. " I do not 
know if she said she did," reports Mme de La Fayette ; 
" but I do know that she said he must say nothing 
of it to the King her brother, for such a grievous thing 
must be kept from him — and above all, he must on 
no account be allowed to think of any revenge, if he did 
hear it, for the King of France was not guilty of it ; 
there must be no feeling against him'' M. Feuillet 
overheard the word '* poison," though the Ambassador 
spoke in English, and, " Madame," said he, " accuse 
no one, and offer up your death to God ; think of 
that alone," But when Montagu repeated his question. 



Louise de La Valli^re 269 

Henrietta " answered only by a movement of the 
shoulders." 

At this moment the Viaticum was brought. " O 
my God ! " said Henrietta, *' I am unworthy that you 
should come to visit a miserable sinner likfe myself." 
" Yes, Madame, you are unworthy," continued Feuillet, 
*' but He has been gracious, and has allowed you to 
make yourself ready. . . Abase yourself now before 
the God of Mercy." After having communicated, 
the Princess begged that they would administer 
Extreme Unction, while the Divine Goodness still 
preserved her mind clear. But then, her pain increas- 
ing : " Oh, Heavens ! " she added, *' do me the 
kindness to bleed me in the foot — I am stifling." 

" Madame, let the doctors decide ; think no more 
of your flesh ; save your soul, and that only." 

Nevertheless, the doctors decided to bleed her. 
While the Holy Oil was being applied, Feuillet, growing 
harsher as time went by, said loudly, "The Church 
implores God, Madame, to forgive you all your sins 
— your evil words, your joy in perfumes and odours, 
your illicit looks and speeches, your slanders, your 
concupiscence, your evil deeds, forbidden by the law 
of God. . ." There was so short a time for the dying 
woman to repent in that perhaps we may not wholly 
censure Feuillet for his severity ; nevertheless, we 
cannot but pity the patient : '* My God ! " she cried, 
" will this fearful anguish never cease } " 

" Come ! Madame — you forget yourself. You have 
off^ended God for twenty-six years " (the poor lady 
was exactly twenty-six !), " and your penance has 
lasted only six hours. Ifou should rather say, with 
St. Augustine : * Cut, wound, dismember mc ; let my 
heart ache ; let my body suffer ; let my bones be poured 
out like water ; let worms feed upon my flesh — pro- 
vided the love of Thee be in my heart, O God ! ' " 



270 Louise dc La Valli^fe 

" I hope, Madame," Feuillet resumed, " that you 
will remember your promises." 

" Yes, sir ; and I conjure you, if God restores me 
to health, which I think is not to be, that you will 
call upon me to keep them." 

" Madame, I assure you that your pain will soon be 
over." 

" At what hour did Jesus Christ die .? " 

" At three o'clock." 

" Perhaps He will be gracious to me, and let me die 
at the same hour." Then she took the last draught 
which the doctors offered her. 

At last Bossuet arrived. "She was as pleased to 
see him as he was grieved to see her." Madame had 
been under his influence for some time ; and, in 
recognition of his teaching, she had had a fine emerald 
mounted in a ring for him. Now, though almost 
expiring, she remembered this, and ordered that it 
should be given him when she was no more ; but she 
gave this order in English, " true to the last to her 
delicate sense of courtesy." 

Bossuet lavished his tenderest eloquence, reciting 
Acts of faith, penitence, and love. He stopped for 
an instant, and she said, " Do you think, sir, that I 
do not hear you because I have turned away a little ^ 
Pray continue a while." The pain decreased towards 
midnight. She thought she might sleep, and asked to 
be allowed to try. Bossuet went away for an instant, 
*' to get some fresh air." But shortly the invalid 
turned round, and seeing Feuillet : " I beg," she 
said, " that M. de Condom be called ! M. Feuillet, 
this is the end of me." 

" Well, Madame, are you not glad to have finished 
your course so soon ? After so short a fight, you 
will enjoy the exceeding great reward." 

Bossuet came back, but she could no longer speak. 



Louise de La Valli^re 271 

He began the Prayers for the Dead, while Feuillet 
went on exhorting the dying creature. '* In two 
or three minutes she gave up her soul to God." 
Madame died peacefully enough on Monday, June 30, 
at half-past two in the morning. She was only just 
twenty-six years old. 



This tragic event left a lasting impression. Her 
first words, her profound conviction — unchanged until 
the very moment of death, when she had renounced 
this life and pardoned every one in it — that idea 
of hers of having been poisoned, spread so fast that 
her entire household requested that there should be 
an autopsy of the body.^ Monsieur consented. 
The King delegated his own physician, Vallot, to be 
present.^ The Ambassador of England, whom they 
guessed to be suspicious, was asked to be present also, 
with any physicians and surgeons he might select. The 
examination was carefully made. The first conclusion 
was that the death was a natural one, attributable to 
cholera-morbus — hence there could be no reasonable 
suspicion of any kind of poisoning.^ It seems, how- 
ever, that the English were not at all so convinced as 
the French, and that they did find traces of poison.* 

* An illness so short and so painful was sufficiently astonishing to 
create speculation. Monsieur, at the urgent request of his household, 
ordered that a post-mortem be made." {^Relation de la maladie, m,ort, 
et ouverttcre dii corps de Madame, by the Abb6 Bourdelot, Physician, 
in V. III. p. 414, of the Memoires interessants pour sefvir d I'histoire de 
France^ by Poncet de la Grave, Paris, 1789.) 

2 Vallot gave his private opinion on the cause of Madame's 
death. He considered it a natural one. See Archives de la Bastille, 
V. IV. p. 37. 

* " The whole conclusion is that Madame died from cholera-morbus, 
the signs of which are well known, and preclude any idea of poison " 
(Narrative by Bourdelot,— or perhaps after Bourdelot). But one 
cannot forget that this capable man ended by poisoning himself by 
mistake I 

* Bourdelot asserts that " he convinced the English Ambassador and 



272 Louise de La Valli^re 

Very soon afterwards, a pamphlet with insinuations 
against Monsieur came into circulation, and was 
attributed to Lord Montagu, who vaguely disavowed 
it. As a matter of fact, the English Ambassador always 
thought that Madame had been poisoned.^ 

Although the declaration of the French doctors 
had to be accepted as the official truth, and although 
the King had already decided to take the same 
favourable view of the sad event, there still was great 
uneasiness. The document assigning the death to 
natural causes was not yet signed when, on the evening 
of June 30, Louis, after his coucher and the retirement 
of all the courtiers, rose again, sent for the Lieutenant 
of his Guard, Brissac,"-^ and ordered him to fetch 
Madame's head-steward instantly from Saint-Cloud.^ 
In a few hours the steward arrived at Versailles. 

" My friend," said the King, looking him up and 
down, " listen to me. If you confess all — if you tell 
me the truth about all that I shall ask you— whatever 
you may have done 1 pardon you, and there shall be 
no more said about it ; but take care to hide nothing 
from me, for if you do, you will be dead before you 
leave this place. . . Was not Madame poisoned ? " 

Milord, who were present," that the death was a natural one. But 
perhaps he flattered himself. " Madame," says Boileau, " died a 
natural death, according to the French doctors ; was poisoned, ac- 
cording to the English ones " {Archives de la Bastille, v. IV, p. 36). 

' Letter from Lord Montagu, Vie de Madame, p. 203. He also 
wrote on July 6 : " I am not sufficiently skilled in medicine to know 
whether she was poisoned or not." 

^ Saint-Simon, v. II. p. 226, for the year 1701. We have carefully 
studied Saint-Simon's account. The £tat de la France pour i66g 
certainly gives Brissac as Lieutenant of the Company of d'Aumont. It 
may be said that M. d'Aumont's term of service did not begin till 
July; but, as a measure of precaution, the King usually caused the 
Lieutenant of one Company to serve with the Captain of another. 
Brissac, therefore, would have served at a different time from his 
Captain. See £^tat, v. I. p. 162. 

2 According to Saint-Simon, the Steward was called Purnon, 
and that is the name given him in the £tat de la France, v. 1. p. 438. 



Louise de La Valli^re 273 

" Yes, Sire." 

" And who poisoned her, and how was it done ? " 

" It was the Chevalier de Lorraine who sent the 
poison to Beuvron and d'Effiat." 

Then the King, repeating his promise of pardon and 
his threats of death : " And did my brother know 
of it ? " 

"No, Sire." Madame's servant added that the 
poisoners had not enough confidence in Monsieur to 
associate him in a plot which he would have prevented, 
or even perhaps denounced.^ 

At these words the King uttered a great " Oh ! " of 
relief. " That is all I wanted to know," he said, 
and the steward was taken back in secret, as he had 
come. 

If ever an interview was private, this one surely 
must have been so. Between the servant and Saint- 
Simon, who has left us this narrative, there was but 
one "middleman," the Procureur-General, Joli de 
Fleury, and we may remark that a relative of Joli's 
belonged (also in the capacity of Procureur) to 
Monsieur's Household. There is another convincing 
feature : Monsieur's second wife, the Princess Palatine, 
who was so concerned to render an exact account 
of these matters, gives in substance the same facts 
as Saint-Simon. D'Effiat, on the day of the crime, 
was found handling Madame's goblet, and rubbing 
it with a piece of paper. A valet-de-chambre^ whom 

^ "No, Sire; none of us was foolish enough to tell him, for he 
cannot keep a secret — he would have ruined us " (Saint-Simon, v. II. 
p, 226, 1865 edition). The second Madame, in her Correspondance, 
gives a good version of this part of the plot: "When the scoundrels 
were arranging to poison poor Madame, they discussed the question of 
telling or not telling Monsieur. The Chevalier de Lorraine said, ' No, 
don't tell him ; he can't hold his tongue. Even if he doesn't speak 
the first year, he'll have us hanged perhaps ten years afterwards.' 
And it is known that the wretches added, ' We'll take care we don't 
tell Monsieur, for he would tell the King, and the King would hang 
us ' " {Correspondance, v. I. p. 252). See again Ibid. v. II. p. 206. 



274 Louise de La Valli^re 

the Palatine afterwards had in her service, entered 
just then, and said to D'Effiat : " Sir, what are you 
doing at our sideboard, and why are you touching 
Madame's cup ? " Quite coolly, D'Effiat replied that 
he was desperately thirsty and had been looking for 
something to drink, and that, seeing the cup had been 
used, he had been drying it.^ This is important. The 
drink, which Monsieur and others took without any 
ill-effects, was innocuous ; it was the cup which needed 
examination. 

A few years after the event, Lord Montagu wrote 
to the Prime Minister of England that if Madame 
Henriette had been poisoned, " as everybody thinks," 
France and all Europe considered the Chevalier de 
Lorraine to have been her murderer. 

The last word would have been said, there could 
be no further discussion, did we not know that the 
occasion of the Ambassador's declaration was the 
Chevalier's return to France, his appointment to the 
rank of Field-Marshal and his redoubled favour with 
Monsieur ; did we not also know that D'Effiat not only 
was left quite undisturbed, but actually went on living 
at the Palais-Royal and Saint-Cloud. These arrange- 
ments upset all argument. It would almost seem 
that they were specially designed to obscure any definite 
opinion on the cause of Madame's death. But all 
was of no avail to remove entirely the suspicion of 
poisoning. One thing, however, is certain : Monsieur 
was not guilty. Saint-Simon, and the second Madame, 
both prove that over and over again. And a still 
better testimony is the following : La Grande Made- 
moiselle, who had such a horror of death, would have 

1 Correspondance complete de Madame, v. II. p. 522 ; Saint-Simon, 
V. II. p. 229. The Palatine had it from the valet-de-chambre^ Saint- 
Simon from Joli de Fleury, who had interrogated Madame Henriette's 
steward. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 275 

liked to marry Monsieur. But she would have in- 
sisted on the removal of all the Household then 
surrounding him. 



Thus perished, in the flower of her age, the charm- 
ing Madame. She was the first to leave the stage on 
which she had been followed by Louise de La Valli^re. 
Both had grievously erred ; but for the survivor, 
expiation was to occupy the greater half of life. For 
the other, it seemed that the sufferings of a whole 
existence had been concentrated into a few hours. 
Both had, in their brief careers, apparently so triumph- 
ant, experienced more pain than pleasure. The physician 
Bourdelot, who repudiated the idea of poison, said, 
in assigning a probable cause for Madame's sudden 
death, that " her great troubles had outworn her 
strength." 

Whatever their secret thoughts may have been, 
Louis XIV. and Charles IL solemnly exchanged con- 
dolences. The Mar6chal de Bellefonds took the French 
King's message to London. The King of England 
sent his by the Duke of Buckingham about the 
beginning of August. The Duke was received with 
the highest honours, and his mission ended in festivities 
which contrasted oddly with the mournful cause of 
his journey. One of these parties was extremely in- 
timate and amusing. Lauzun invited the Ambassador 
and two of his suite to supper. He had arranged 
that they should meet three charming ladies, " one of 
his mistresses " (we are not told which), the Marquise 
de La Valliere, sister-in-law of the Duchess,^ and the 
plump, merry Mme de Thianges, that sister of the 
Montespan's whose maxim was that no one grew old 

^ The text whence we take this anecdote says " cousin " — which is 
erroneous. 



276 Louise de La Valliere 

who loved good cheer. The guests were feasting 
gaily to the sound of divers instruments, when there 
entered a masked cavalier, hand-in-hand with two 
masked ladies. The three began to dance. Then 
Lauzun's ladies, surrounding the trio, began to dance 
too, and at each change of figure affected to admire 
the stranger's sword — at last actually taking possession 
of it, and off'ering it to the Duke. Finally, the cavalier 
and his companions unmasked, and proved to be the 
King and Mme de Montespan. (The second lady 
is not named.) Louis, approaching Buckingham, told 
him that, disarmed by the ladies, he now begged 
acceptance of his sword. ^ The sword and belt were 
valued at over 20,000 ecus? 

We see by this that the rumours of a projected union 
between Monsieur and Mademoiselle did not greatly 
trouble Lauzun, who must by this time have lost all 
hope for himself in that direction. Less than six 
hours after Madame's death — how quickly the most 
startling events grow to seem natural ! — the King, 
drawing Mile de Montpensier aside, said to her : 
" My cousin, here is a vacant place : will you fill it ? " 
*' You are the master. Sire ; I can have no will but 
yours." The King pressed her further : " Have you 
any aversion to the idea } " She did not answer. 
According to herself, she was as pale as death, and 
confused, embarrassed ; yet Louis, who was observant 
enough, got the impression that she approved his 

1 Despatch from M. de Iturieta, Spanish Ambassador, Sept. 4, 
1670. He says he heard the story from one of the ladies present. 
Decidedly, ladies are dangerous ! But this time the reporter, though 
indiscreet, was at any rate veracious. See the Gazette de France, 
September, 1670. 

* That is the figure given by the Gazette. Don Iturieta's reporter 
said more than 16,000 louis. A proof of the Spanish Ambassador's 
veracity is that when he declared that his informant was a woman, 
he carefully added: "I daresay the valuation is a little excessive" 
{Archives de la Bastille, v. IV. p. 46). 



Louise de La Valliere 277 

project. " I will see what I can do," he said, " and 
let you know how it goes on." Shortly after- 
wards, between October 9 and 22, the Court being 
at Chambord, Mademoiselle, Mme de Montespan, 
the Duchesse de La Valliere, and M. de Lauzun were 
playing some game. Lauzun was ostentatiously oblivi- 
ous of Mademoiselle, who suddenly discovered that the 
ribbon of her cuff was untied. Stie begged the little 
man to fasten it for her, but he felt incapable of doing 
it correctly, so the Princess had to accept the service 
from her supposed rival, Mme de La Valliere — and 
yet she still felt captivated by Lauzun's manners, 
looks, jokes, and courtier-like reserves ! ^ His power 
increased as the chances of a marriage with Monsieur — 
that unchanging iceberg ! — waned (October 3-22, 1670). 
Mademoiselle, whose fortieth birthday fell that autumn, 
fastened more tenaciously than ever on her idea of 
making Lauzun happy. 

He showed consummate skill, and affected to be 
ready to immolate himself discreetly for the sake of 
the future Madame's glory. But, all the same, he was 
arranging some useful friendships for himself. He 
approached the Montespan, who was a great friend of 
Mademoiselle's ; and, moreover, he took up at Saint- 
Germain the part which Colbert had been accustomed 
to play at the Hotel Brion. When the Marquise 
produced her first adulterous baby, it was Lauzun who 
carried it under his cloak across the little park, and 
gave it to the Widow Scarron. He also succeeded, by 
marvellous feats of tact, in getting the favourite's niece, 
Mile de Thianges, married to M. de Nevers, that 
'* terribly irresolute " person. With his help, Mme 
de Montespan was indeed doing wonders. 

Though tolerant of others' errors, he professed a 
great fastidiousness for himself, and so far was he from 

1 Mile DE MONTPENSIER, V, IV. p. 1 67. 



278 Louise de La Valli^re 

being capable of dishonouring himself by marrying 
La Valliere, that he would not hear of an alliance 
which was suggested with the family of M. de Roque- 
laure. " He would not marry at all if he could not 
do better than that." Mademoiselle was utterly over- 
whelmed by all these proofs of devotion, and offered 
herself to the proud fellow. And yet, whenever 
Lauzun's marriage with a person unknown was gossipped 
of, the name which first came to everybody's lips was 
that of La Valliere ! The amazement was supreme 
when they heard for certain that the " person " was 
Mile de Montpensier. 

Incredible ! Mademoiselle, grand-daughter of Henri 
IV., cousin-german to the King ! Yet evidently true — 
for had not the King given his consent ? The principal 
nobles came to thank her for the honour she was 
doing to the gentlemen of France. Colbert himself 
offered to arrange Lauzun's affairs for him, and actually 
began work on the contract. Louise de La Valliere, 
like all the rest of the Court, offered her congratulations 
to Mademoiselle. For many reasons, Louise had 
never desired for that lady a marriage in which there 
was neither glory nor passion. She knew the husband- 
elect too well to have any illusions about the success of 
the singular alliance. Very unaffectedly, very simply, 
she congratulated Lauzun's sister, and Mademoiselle. 
" You are doing a fine thing," she said to the Princess ; 
" I am very glad of it — M. de Lauzun is a friend of 
mine." Mademoiselle made no reply. 

But politicians have harder hearts and less facile 
fancies than middle-aged single ladies. Louvois, above 
all, detested "the little man." -^ So far back as 1668, 

1 See C. RousSET, Histoire de Louvois, v. I. p. 237. The learned 
historian speaks of Lauzun as a "madman." Ambitious he was, but 
madman he was not. This affair is not relevant enough to our story 
for us to treat it at length. But let us, at any rate, warn our readers 
against Saint-Simon, who must have mixed up two anecdotes. If, in 



Louise de La Valli^re 279 

he had forced the King to break a promise to his 
favourite, and take from him the post of Grand- 
Master of Artillery. So far satisfied, his jealousy 
broke out anew when in 1670 the King gave Lauzun, 
who was a good commander — on parade, at any rate — 
the title of General of the Army. The suspicious 
Louvois scented *' a cabal " behind this marriage, which 
was favoured by Mme de Montespan, and, more 
significantly, by Colbert, He made up his mind, and 
began his opposition on December 8. Lauzun heard 
of it, and instantly knew the game was up. But 
Mademoiselle — undaunted, if nothing more — ^restored 
his sinking confidence. Louis continued to authorise 
the preliminaries, though they went very slowly. 
Then an obscure woman intervened — and intervened 
with genius ! Mme Scarron, the youthful widow of 
an old gouty poet, the future wife of an old King, 
disapproved of an elderly Princess taking for her 
husband a young cavalier. What were her reasons ? 
Much as she wrote, discussed, and analysed, she has 
left this topic untouched. All we know is that 
Louvois' new ally managed to scare Mme de 
Montespan. She pointed out " that the Royal Family, 
nay ! the King himself, would one day reproach her 
for the step she was inducing him to take." The 
favourite allowed herself to be convinced, and in her 
turn convinced the King — at her own well-chosen 
hour. 

And simultaneously a very strong and very illustrious 
opposition-party sprang up. Its members were the 
Prince de Conde, Madame d'Orleans (Mademoiselle's 
step-mother), and, actually, Marie-Ther^se herself ! 
The haughty blood of Spain shuddered at the thought 

March, 1669, Lauzun had treated the favourite as he is said to have 
done in the Duke's Memoires, how could he possibly have been friends 
with her in 167 1 ? M. Clement, in his Madame de Montespan et 
Louis XIV. , has also confused dates. 



28o Louise de La Valli^re 

of such a mesalliance. Louis also was a proud 
monarch. His early yielding had perhaps been due to 
a malicious desire to see his quondam foe make herself 
ridiculous. But his Minister's advice and his own 
natural good sense, had quickly modified his ideas ; and 
his last scruples disappeared when he read the contract 
which lavished on Lauzun property which was supposed 
to belong to the House of France. He took back 
his promise — and the plan, so admired one day, was 
seen to be utterly ridiculous the next 1 

Lauzun behaved quietly — seemed more than re- 
signed to his fate. Mademoiselle maintained that he 
wept. If he did, she alone beheld it. But she wept, 
sighed, shrieked, for two. " O this wretched worldly 
life ! " The dejected lady, who had refused to see 
either her step-mother or her sister, sent for Mme de 
Montespan, and wildly urged her to speak to the 
King. The favourite spoke all the more sympathetically 
because she had betrayed the unfortunate Mademoiselle. 
Louise de La Valliere, tender-hearted as always, turned 
quite naturally to the victim, and tried to console her. 
" I pity you very deeply," she said. " For a lady in 
your position to have done all you have done without 
any result is truly sad. As for M. de Lauzun, he is 
not to be pitied ; the King will give him greater 
dignities and favours than you could have given him ; 
and, even if he should never marry — well ! so much 
the better for him." 

Mademoiselle did not appreciate these home-truths. 
More than four years afterwards she could not help 
saying, " I thought what she said very stupid ! " 
And, in fact, it was not perhaps very consoling for a 
disappointed lady-in-love. 

Only an analyst of the feminine heart could be sure 
if, in speaking thus to Mademoiselle of her advances 
to Lauzun, the Duchess was remembering the year's 



Louise de La Valli^re 281 

dole of sarcasms about her imaginary pretentions to his 
hand. Louise was not given to make reprisals. But 
she was disillusioned ; she was beginning to see the 
world as it really is : " If he never marries, so much 
the better for him ! " She was thought to be shallow, 
yet she had seen through Lauzun, and guessed that 
his mobile affections were incongruous with marriage- 
bonds ; for, now that she felt herself for ever shut 
out from the Promised Land, she had a very lofty 
idea of marriage — marriage, outside of which neither a 
sheltered life nor a lasting affection can be hoped for. 



CHAPTER VI 

FEBRUARY, 167I APRIL, 1672 

SUNDAY, February 7, was marked by two festivities 
of a very different character. In the morning, 
the whole Court attended at the " benediction " 
given to the Abbess of Fontevrault, Marie-Magdeleine- 
Gabrielle de Rochechouart, " sister of Mme de 
Montespan," as the Gazette de France was careful 
to remind its readers. In the evening, the Court went 
to the Hotel de Guise, which was ht by two thousand 
lanterns. It was for the wedding of Henriette de 
Lorraine d'Harcourt that this grand supper, honoured 
by the presence of the King and Queen, was given. ^ 
La Valliere was doubtless also there, for Mme de Guise 
had been a friend of hers both at Blois and at the 
Luxembourg. On the following Tuesday (Shrove- 
Tuesday) a great ball was announced to take place at 
the Tuileries.^ But a sort of wave of uneasiness 
seemed to be passing over social life, and the ball 

1 Mme DE Sevigne, Lettres, v. II. pp. 63, 67. I am unable to interpret, 
in M. R^gnier's fashion, or indeed in any fashion, the passage in Letter 
136 (for February i8): "I heard that a tall man" — and so forth. 
There can be no doubt that the King was present at the ball : 
that is shown by Mademoiselle's Memoires. 

^ "On the 3rd, their Majesties enjoyed the ballet of Psyche, and 
the next day all the festivities ended in a great ball in the Palace 
of the Tuileries, where the whole Court, with the exception of Monsieur, 
who was still in mourning, took part in a masquerade — wonderfully 
beautiful and brilliant " {Gazette de France, February [?] 9, 1671). 

282 






^ -J." - c» 



a ->J=2 8 ,.-1 -=7^ 







ti. 







Louise de La Valli^re 283 

only just escaped being postponed. Neither Mme 
de Montespan nor the Duchesse de La Valliere 
appeared at it. " Never had there been such general 
depression." If any one had raised the masks, what 
a mixture of surprise and curiosity would he have 
caught in every face ! What could be going on in 
the rooms of " the Ladies " } In those apartments, 
echoing with the sounds of revelry and music from 
the ball-room close by — in those apartments it was that 
Louise at last resolved to escape from the world. 
In the end she had revolted once for all against her 
rival's many insults, which were tolerated, even en- 
couraged, by the King ; and since nothing is so 
audacious as infuriated weakness, the gentle timid 
creature had gone straight to the master himself.^ And, 
relieved at having spoken out frankly all her secret 
bitterness, utterly disillusioned, despairing of " over- 
coming her enemies," still less of improving them by 
her good example, her only thought now v/as to 
find an asylum for her grief. Eight years before 
she had been in the same Palace, at the same hour, 
dejected and wretched, refusing to sleep until the 
King's forgiveness should restore her peace of mind. 
But now she could not cheat her misery with any 
hope of his return. The King was at the ball, and 
where he would go when it was over she knew but 
too well. Must she wait again, until he should pass 
by, and throw his little dog into her arms as he did 
so, saying, " That is good enough for you " ? . . . 
How long the gay night must have seemed to her ! 
She had not even any preparations to make, which 
might have occupied and so shortened those hours of 
mortal anguish. Louise did not intend to take any- 

> "She had spoken impertinently to the King the night before 
(the night before Ash- Wednesday, that is) " {Lettre de Mme de 
Montmorency a Bussy, Correspondance de Bussy, v. I. p. 379). 



284 Louise de La Valli^re 

thing away with her — as she had gained all through 
the love of her lover-King, so she now left all to the 
King unfaithful. She put on again her grey gown, 
the " little La Valliere gown." ^ If she could never 
retrieve the innocence of her youth, she could at 
least wear the livery of its poverty. But her son ! 
her daughter ! Neither was there to stretch out 
little loving arms : Mme Colbert had the King's 
children. There was nothing to restrain the forsaken 
woman. At six o'clock, taking advantage of the 
last hours of darkness, she escaped for the second 
time, without saying a word, leaving only a letter 
addressed to Louis,^ and went to the Convent of 
Sainte-Marie de Chaillot.^ She entered it at dawn on 
the day when the Church reminds us all that dust 
we are, and to dust shall return. But, mercifully, its 
terrible warning is followed on Ash-Wednesday by 
words of consolation : " Hear what the Lord saith : 
Return unto me with all your hearts — with fastings, 
with tears, with groanings. Turn ye unto the Lord, 
for He is bountiful in mercy. . . Who knows what 
mercy He may show unto you ? " That inspiring 
word " mercy " — later on to be Louise's name in 
religion — was the one which that day's service murmured 
oftenest in her ear. 



* D'Ormesson, Journal^ v. II. p. 610. Grey was the colour of the 
Valli^res. 

2 Mademoiselle insinuates that Lauzun helped Louise to compose 
the letter. 

' Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 260 ; Sevign^, Letter 134, 
V, II, p. 62. It seems that one of Mme de S6vigne's letters is missing, 
for she would scarcely have begun her tale with "The Duchesse de La 
ValHere asked the King," etc. See Guy-Patin, Lettres, v. III. p. 417 ; 
Correspondance de Bussy, v. I. p. 379, Let us point out a slight mistake 
which has eluded the vigilant editor of Bussy's Correspondence. " I 
foresaw the retreat of Mme de La Valliere more than four months 
ago," wrote Bussy on Feb. 7, 167 1, Letter 348. Now La Valliere 
fled on February II. I suspect that Bussy wrote "iouT years" instead 
of "four months!' The change had, in fact, begun in 1667. 



Louise de La Valli^re 285 

The King's conduct, when he heard of this sudden 
flight, put the finishing-touch to the changes which 
time had produced. He did not hasten in pursuit 
of Louise. His departure for Versailles took place 
at the hour already arranged. Punctually, he got 
into his carriage ; and beside him sat Mme de 
Montespan and Mile de Montpensier. Never- 
theless, when once they had fairly started, Louis 
could not help weeping. The Montespan followed 
his example. Mademoiselle, who did not love La 
Valli^re, but who was addicted just then to weeping — 
at the Opera, at balls, anywhere, in fact — mingled her 
tears with theirs. For the rest, the King kept his 
head, and did not neglect his great political projects, 
but worked on that day quite as hard as on any other 
— as his correspondence proves. 

On reflection, though, he resolved (our history will 
show why) to take Louise away from the Convent. 
First of all, he despatched Lauzun, who, for his part, 
was quite ready to bring back the rival of his enemy, 
the Montespan. But Lauzun failed. M. de Bellefonds 
failed too, though to him — for she respected his 
character — Louise spoke with less reserve. She charged 
him to tell the King *' that she would have left the 
Court sooner after having lost the honour of his 
favour, if she had been able to persuade herself to do 
without seeing him ; that this weakness had been so 
great that even now she was barely capable of offering 
that sacrifice to God, but that she wished to use as her 
penance the remains of her passion for him, and that, 
after having given him her youth, the rest of her life 
was not too much to devote to saving her soul." ^ 
'Tis like an echo of the first chapter of the Reflexions : 

1 Mme de Sevigne speaks of a letter '' which no one saw." Does 
she mean the letter which had been left in the morning ? Or was 
there another ? {Lettres de Mme de Sevigne, v. II., Hachette edition.) 



286 Louise de La Valliere 

*' Is it too much (my God) to redeem the scandal of a 
life in which I have done nothing but offend thee, to 
employ it now in thy service alone ! " How like 
Louise de La Valliere that is, in its strength and in 
its weakness ! 

Listening to Bellefonds, the King wept again ; but 
perhaps the emotion was purely physical, for his 
decision remained inflexible. Colbert, that inexorable 
slave of his, was now despatched to fetch Louise, with 
orders to use the Royal authority if necessary. But 
the forms were carefully observed. The Duchess was 
politely begged to return to Versailles, " so that he 
could speak to her in person." Louise obeyed, " on 
condition that the King would permit her to go back 
to the Convent if she insisted." 

She had arrived at Sainte-Marie de Chaillot at six 
o'clock in the morning ; she left it at six in the 
evening — twelve hours' interval ! 

Louis received her with an emotion which one 
would like to believe was sincere. He talked with 
her for an hour — and wept again, but with joy this 
time. Mme de Montespan ran to meet her friend, 
with open arms and streaming eyes. " She was crying 
— goodness knows why ! " The Marquise had at first 
opposed her influence to Louise's return. She had 
even had '*a great quarrel " with the King. But when 
she found herself defeated, our sly lady put the best 
face she could on it. Outside this little circle of 
interested persons, opinions were divided. Mme de 
Sevigne censured " all this irresolution," and the ever- 
changing latest intelligence, Mme de Scudery, the 
widow of the author of Alaric^ thought the King 
admirable '* even in his faithlessness." " He shows 
courtesies to any one he has loved, which very few 
fine gentlemen would lavish on a lady of whom 
they had wearied, even if she had been as faithful as the 



Louise de La Valli^re 287 

Duchess." According to La Grande Mademoiselle, 
" every one thought that La Valliere had behaved 
in a very silly way, for she ought either to have retired, 
or insisted on her conditions ; but instead, she came 
back like a fool. Although the King did v^eep, he 
would have been very glad to get rid of her 
afterwards." 

But truth managed to make itself audible through 
all the chatter. Bussy, exiled though he was, saw 
clearly by the aid of his native malignity, and expressed 
what he saw in no ambiguous terms : " I maintain 
that it is only for his own purposes and policy that the 
King has brought back Mme de La Valliere. He needs 
a pretext for Mme de Montespan." Yes — such was 
the true motive of that " mysterious conduct." There 
was soon a glaring proof. 

Louis XIV., like his grandfather, could make love, 
war, and politics at the same time. He was then 
preparing one of those military parades in which he 
so delighted. The Queen, the Princess, the Court, 
all were to follow him to Flanders. The Duchesse de 
La Valliere was invited. Despite the insinuations of all 
our spiteful clever women, Louise had only returned 
to Versailles because she was ordered to do so. Even 
her enemies agree in saying that her attitude was 
dignified and reserved. Impulsively she declined the 
invitation — forgetting that she was wanted not for her 
own sake, but for another's, Louis then commanded,^ 
and again she was forced to obey. 

In fact the King could not, without compromising 
himself, go familiarly to any one's apartments but hers 
— he must be supposed to be going " to the Ladies." 
But, with this precaution, no one had a word to say — 

^ See a Letter-Patent of May 19, 1671. " Having ordered our dear 
and well-beloved cousin, the Duchesse de La Vallidre, to follow us on 
our journey. . ." See Clement, Reflexions, v. IL p. 215; Pidces 
justificatives. 



288 Louise de La Valli^rc 

except the Queen, who had ceased to say anything. 
Intelligent Quartermasters had organised, had fore- 
seen, everything. Louvois wrote to Robert, Steward 
of Dunkirk : " Mme la Duchesse de La Valli^re 
will have the rooms marked ' Y.' A door must be made 
in the place marked 3 so that she can go privately 
into Mme de Montespan's room."^ Thus were 
matters arranged. Louise's room was a sort of advance- 
post to her rival's. Is it surprising that she should 
have sighed for a humble convent-cell ! 

Louis did not really desire to torture his former 
mistress ; it was only that he was afraid of Montespan. 
The terrible husband was still in revolt. He had 
even become more dangerous, and that was the result 
of a false move by Louvois. 

Towards the end of the summer of 1669, some 
cavaliers at Ille in Roussillon had insulted the Under- 
bailiff of Perpignan. The affair was so unimportant 
that the steward had not thought it necessary to write 
to Paris about it. But Louvois got wind of it, and as 
these cavaliers belonged to the Marquis de Montespan's 
Company — he had then retired to his mountain fastness 
— it was thought to be a good opportunity for " pay- 
ing out " their Captain. Louvois ordered an immediate 
inquiry into this serious matter, and told the steward 
to do everything he could " to implicate the Com- 
mandant of the Company and as many officers as he 
possibly could " — in fact, " to manage to frighten them 
thoroughly, so that most of them might desert, and 
especially the Captain, after which it ought to be easy 
enough to disband the Company." Above all, he was to 
try somehow or other to implicate the Captain in his 
report, so that he could be reduced to the ranks with 

1 This interesting document was published by M. C. Rousset, in 
his excellent Histoire de Lotivois, v. I. p. 311. The original is in the 
War Office Archives. 



Louise de La Valli^re 289 

some appearance of justice. . . "If you could arrange 
in some way to have him charged in such a manner 
that the Sovereign Council could pronounce sentence 
upon him, it would be a good thing." Louvois ended 
with two pregnant lines : '* If you know anything 
at all of what is going on hereabouts, you will 
easily guess the reason." Then, prudent as- always, 
he ordered the steward to return him this precious 
production — which the steward, after having taken 
a copy of it, duly did. Montespan, thus adroitly 
compromised, fled to Spain. 

He was scarcely gone when, by one of those sudden 
flashes of insight — frequently the sequel of measures 
taken in anger — the situation was perceived to be very 
much worse, instead of better, than before. The 
husband could not now be spied upon — so was he not 
far more dangerous ? Would it not have been 
better to keep him in France, within reach of the 
police ? In short, the King and his mistress were more 
uneasy than ever. In July, 1670, to give Mme de 
Montespan a position as respectable as the irregularities 
of her life would permit, there had been presented at 
the Chatelet (it is easy to guess with what influence 
behind it !) an application for divorce.-^ But despite 
Royal influence, the appeal hung fire, was even 
*' hung up." ^ And that was why the children were 
hidden away, and why, in case of a judicial inquiry, it 
was desired to conceal the errors of the shameless 
Montespan at the expense of the honour of La Valliere, 
forsaken and now repentant as she was. There is only 

1 Guy-Patin, Lettres, v. III. p. 383. "The King has sent to the 
Chatelet an appHcation for the divorce of M. and Mme de Montespan, 
et alia multa de hoc genere dicunUir quce scribere non est animus. " 

^ No mention is made of it in the definitive judgment given in 1674. 
M. P. Clement thinks that the rigour shown by Louvois to Montespan 
was caused by the latter's resistance to the divorce. That is erroneous. 
The application was subsequent to Louvois' prosecution. 

19 



2 go Louise dc La Valli^re 

one mitigating circumstance in this tyrannical conduct 
of the King — and that is a certain respect for public 
morality. He himself wished to save appearances ! 

Louis XIV. permitted no gossip about his private 
life. He learnt that Mme de Heudicourt, ex- 
demoiselle de Pons — that unwilling virgin of 1661 ! — 
was telling outsiders all she knew of the secret life of 
Mme de Montespan and himself^ The " obstreperous " 
young woman was exiled ; but the Court and the 
whole town of Paris could not very well be exiled too, 
and they were involuntary witnesses of the hitherto 
secret passion. 

The Court left for Flanders. During the stay there, 
Louis frequently went up " to see the Ladies " — even 
on the day when a dispatch informed him that one of 
his sons, the Due d'Anjou, was seriously ill. When 
Marie-Therese returned from a pilgrimage to a 
neighbouring Abbey, the King called to her from an 
open window, *' Madame, we must set off to-morrow, 
so as to be near my son. The anxiety would be too 
great otherwise." The anxious father was shouting from 
the window of Mme de Montespan's room ! A poor sort 
of husband, but an excellent parent, Louis was punished 
this time through his paternal feelings, for the news of 
the little Duke's death (July 10, 1671) met the Royal 
family on their arrival.^ 

1 See Mme de Caylus, Souvenirs. Sevigne, Lettres, v. II. p. 54, 
Hachette edition. Mme de Main tenon, or rather Mme Scarron, 
affirmed it. " I could not possibly see any more of her without 
seriously injuring my reputation and my prospects " {Correspondance 
generale, v. I. p. 154). Though we cite this letter, we cannot refrain 
from making some remarks thereon. The original belongs to M. Bon- 
homme, who has published it [Mme de Maintenon et sa famille) 
without assigning to it any date. M. Lavallee, to the words This 
Easter-Day, has added the date, 167 1 — which seems a probable one, 
until we notice that he does not give the signature — Maintenon — 
which M. Bonhomme does give. Now, in 1671, there could have been 
no question of such a signature. I wish to warn the definitive editor of 
the Letires de Mme de Maintenon of this difficulty. 

' CEuvres de Lotiis XIV., v. V, p. 482. M. Ch^ruel, in his notes on 



Louise de La Valli^re ^gt 

Despite this lesson, Louis' life remained unaltered. 
The same sight was seen at Versailles, at Saint-Germain, 
at Fontainebleau : first, La Valliere would get into the 
Royal carriage, then the King, then the Montespan — 
all three on the same seat, with the King in the middle. 
A strange spectacle, truly ! Louis, very well dressed in 
brown material of some sort, covered with gold lace ; 
gold lace on the hat also, and a high colour in his 
face. Mme de Montespan, very handsome, with a 
blooming complexion. The Duchess herself, some- 
what restored to health by the greater quietude of her 
life, had blossomed out again. For a long time her 
thinness had been the great topic — now every one 
professed astonishment at her relative stoutness, and 
she was pronounced to be " very pretty." Louise, that 
Royal captive, that victim dragged at the chariot-wheels 
of a triumphant rival, now drove in this fashion 
through the fair woods where, vows of eternal love 
had once been whispered in her ear. Was it to make 
up to her for this torture that Louis, at the end of the 
year, confirmed the provision made for the little Due de 
Vermandois, Admiral of France since 1669 .? Favours 
were lavished on the Mortemarts — those indefatigable 
beggars — while they fell but reluctantly upon Louise 
and her son. 

Death continued his solemn warning to the actors 
in this Royal comedy. Madame Henriette had been 
struck down in June, 1670 ; and now, in December, 
1671, Mme de. Montausier, who had been dying for 
three years, was at last carried off. One day, in a 
dark corridor of the Tuileries, a woman's face had 
eerily appeared to her . . . and from that hour she had 
drooped, had been soon obliged to relinquish her post 
— the post so ardently desired at one time ! On 

the Memoires de Mile de Montpensier, v. IV. p. 292, says that the 
Due d'Anjou died on July 18. 



292 Louise de La Valli^re 

December 2, Fl^chier preached her funeral-sermon, 
and could not help saying : " I know that her life was 
regular . . . but did she avoid human weaknesses — 
those half-hearted strivings after good, those too-lax 
tolerances, connivances, which are the common tempta- 
tions of mankind ? " 

Louise de La Valli^re knew those '* connivances " 
too well ! She had profited by them, if we can call 
it profit ; and then her rival, Mme de Montespan, 
had enjoyed them in her turn. The orator added : 
" Therefore, despite all her known virtues, I should 
still fear for her did 1 not think that she had expiated 
her sins by a long penance ... by humiliating and 
painful infirmities, by the abnegation of human joys 
and consolations, and by long, weary suffering." 

Less than three months later, Louise was present 
at the afflicting death-bed of little Marie-Therese of 
France. The " laws of society " had ordained that 
the Duchesse de La Valliere and Mme de Montespan 
should be by the baby's side, together with the dis- 
tracted Queen, who — absorbed in her grief — forgot 
the insult of such companionship. And on the next 
day died the widow of Gaston d'Orleans, Madame- 
Dowager — she who had brought Louise to Paris. 

As our denoument draws on, all the dramatis 
persona reappear, just as they do in a " well-made " 
play — and in April, 1672, we find Marie Mancini, 
Constabless Colonna, and her sister Hortense, Duchesse 
de Mazarin, landing on the coast of Provence, got up 
like veritable heroines of romance, with lots of jewellery 
and no underlinen. They were received with general 
disapproval — it was a unanimous tolle ; well-behaved 
ladies called down judgment on their giddy heads. 
Others were even more drastic. Mme de Bouillon 
and the Comtesse de Soissons declaimed loudly against 
" the mad fools " — their own sisters. But Marie 



Louise dc La Valli^re 293 

Mancini, daring as ever, advanced upon Paris all the 
same. Marie-Thdrese, then Regent, sent a Lettre-de- 
Cachet to await her arrival, containing orders to arrest 
her wherever she was encountered. When Louis 
was told of this stern measure, he answered simply 
" Good," and allowed his old love to be shut up 
in the Monastery of Lys, near Melun. But even 
that town was too near Paris and Fontainebleau ; so, 
to prevent an irruption of the troublesome lady, she 
was ordered to withdraw to Reims. She then tried 
all her formerly successful methods : letters to the 
King — passionate, angry, disdainful, ironical. . . They 
failed now. " I could never have believed it if I 
had not seen it ! " she cried. But, despite her audacity, 
she was discouraged ; she submitted. Her last words 
reveal fully the mediocrity of her character. '* At 
least," she demanded, "if they must exile me, let it be 
to an Abbey or a beautiful Convent." ^ It was in Spain, 
about 1 7 1 o, that she ended an obscure and unrespected 
existence ; but she may be said to have really died 
in 1672. 

There were little lessons — often more effective — 
as well as the great solemn warnings. In March, 1671, 
Louise was scarcely installed in her own abode — or 
the Ladies' Abode, as some put it — when Louis Guilhem 
de Castelnau, Comte de Clermont-Lodeve, Marquis 
de Cessac, was discovered cheating at cards. He had 
given thirty pistoles to the Duchess's men-servants to 
throw the house-cards into the river and replace them 
with his own.^ The King was very angry, and 

1 Depping, Correspondance de Louis XIV., v. IV. p. 729. We refer 
the reader to the book by M. Chantelauze on Marie Mancini and Louis 
XIV., and also to that by Lucien P6rey, Marie Mancini Colonna. 

^ Mme DE Sevigne, Lettres, March 18, 1671, v. II. p. 113 (Hachette 
edition). Cessac came back in 1674, cheated again, was banished again, 
and again pardoned. He actually married a daughter of the Due de 
Luynes, 



294 Louise de La Valli^re 

ordered the Grand Provost to discover some means 
of preventing cheating at cards. The Grand Provost 
consulted Colbert, who consulted La Reynie, who 
could think of nothing, for he did not dare to suggest 
the dropping of cards altogether. Cessac wisely fled 
to England. . . An incident which, certainly, might 
have happened in any one's house — but was particularly 
painful in this one, for it recalled the odious happenings 
at the little Hotel Brion. 

Then, another evening, there was another little thing. 
The King, when he was " with the Ladies^'' behaved 
much as if he had been with men only, and talked 
in a free sort of fashion — telling, for instance, how 
Villarceaux, first the lover of Ninon, then the adorer of 
Mme Scarron, had asked for a post for his son. He 
had done it very cleverly — too cleverly ! This ex- 
cellent fellow, uncle of I know not whom, had heard 
that certain people "had been good enough to tell 
his niece that the King had designs upon her." If 
that were true, he " now begged His Majesty to make 
use of him, for he could arrange the matter better than 
any one else." The master had, quite sincerely, 
laughed at this Villarceaux. " We are too old to attack 
girls of fifteen," ^ he said. 

That was the answer of a sensible man ; but to tell 
the story before Louise, who had given him the flower 
of her youth, was not the action of a delicate-minded 
one. 

' Mme DE S^viGNE, Lettres, Dec. 23, 1671, v. II, p. 439 (Hachette 
edition). This edition has: "And he told this story at the house 
of some ladies." Read " the Ladies " : Mmes de La Valliere and 
Montespan. 



CHAPTER VIT 

APRIL, 1672 OCTOBER, 1673 

ABOUT April, 1672, Louise de La Valli^re was 
momentarily freed from her chain. Mme de 
Montespan was enceinte. The King was about 
to join the Army. He dared not leave his mistress 
at Saint-Germain, exposed to her husband's violence ; 
and so Ath6nais was brought to a little secluded castle, 
called Le Genitoy.^ This house belonged to a Sanguin, 
a Gentleman of the Chamber, collateral heir of a mistress 
of Francis I., the famous Anne de Pisseleu. Here 
Louis came secretly to bid his mistress farewell, 
leaving her under the protection of guards who were 
ordered to give no one access to the isolated abode. 

Mme de Montespan had a companion there, but 
she was not La Valli^re, whom they would not have 
dared to co ndemn to such imprisonment. Only 
a paid friend could be supposed to undergo so long 
a term of boredom — such as Mme Scarron, for 
instance. That insidious lady, who was gaining 
favour every day, had the knack of getting a great 
deal without asking much ; nor did any one surpass 
her in the assumption of an air of frank independence. 
On her holiday evenings, at Mme de Sevigne's, she 
talked admirably of the horrible restlessness of Court- 

* Le Genitoy, Seine-et-Marne, parish of Bussy-Saint-Georges, to the 
south of Lagny. The Abbe Le Beuf has discovered that the old name 
of this demesne was Genestoy, 

29s 



296 Louise de La Valli^re 

life, of the bitter vexations and dreary boredom of 
the Ladies — even that one who was most envied. It 
was delightful to listen to her. Her company was 
pronounced enchanting. At Genitoy she altered, not 
her manner, but her subject and the names of the 
'* victims." 

And so Louise felt once more the long-lost joy 
of freedom. She profited by it to lead a quieter, 
more reflective life. It was more than two years now 
since religious ardour had re-awakened in her soul, like 
a line in an engraving which has been hidden under 
some accidental stain. And hope came back with 
faith. As to charity, Louise had never neglected that. 
On June 5, Bossuet preached on the duty of the rich 
towards the poor. Almost immediately, she wrote to 
M. de Ribeyre, Surveyor at Tours, " that she wanted 
to help the sick poor of the Duchy," to diminish the 
taxes, to do good works throughout the parishes (July 
8, 1672). And about this time, an honest friar, who 
came a-begging to her house, received a very consider- 
able sum of money from her hand. Surprised at the 
amount, " Madame," said he, " you are so charitable 
that God will surely have mercy on you. Put your 
trust in Him. One day you will know the greatness 
of His mercy." In another version, the words differ 
a little : " Oh, madame, you will be saved. It is not 
possible that God should allow any one to perish who 
gives alms so liberally for love of Him." A good 
soul and true, this poor friar who thanked a Duchess 
by promising her the Divine compassion ! Far from 
offending Louise, the kindly words "gave her real 
joy," and remained in her memory as a " happy 
omen." 

Just at this moment, the best adviser she could have 
had — Bellefonds — got into disgrace with the King. 
Strange, truly, are the happenings of this world. 



Louise de La Valli^rc 297 

Louis punishes his Marshal, and that Marshal becomes 
an influence in the conversion of his former mistress ! 

Gigault de Bellefonds, born in 1630, was in 1649 
Governor of Valognes and its Castle. He defended 
them against the Fronde at the same time that Laurent 
de La Baume Le Blanc so valiantly kept Amboise 
for the Crown. Chief Royal Steward in 1663, Marshal 
of France in 1668, and long honoured with the King's 
friendship, he had of course met Louise de La 
Valliere frequently. Moreover, his wife, nk Madeleine 
Foucquet, dame de I'Armor,^ daughter of a leading 
Parliamentarian at Rennes, was a compatriot of the 
charming Gabrielle Gle de la Cotardais, sister-in-law 
of the quondam favourite. 

Louise's sincerity, modesty, disinterestedness, and 
trustworthiness had long since won for her Bellefonds' 
esteem — and that was not given lightly. Misfortune 
breaks up false friendships, but cements true ones 
It happened that the Marshal and the Duchess almost 
simultaneously realised the vanity of worldly success — 
and moreover, by a curious coincidence, the family 
of Mortemart seemed to be equally fatal to both. 
Bellefonds, who enjoyed well-deserved favour in 1668, 
suffered his first defeat when Mme de Montespan's 
influence obtained the Governorship of the Dauphin 
for Montausier. And, in the following year (June 
1 669), there came another disappointment. He wanted 
the Governorship of Paris. And it was Mme de 
Montespan's father, M. de Mortemart, who got it. 
In 1770, the King did send the Marshal with his 
condolences on the death of Madame to the King of 
England ; but that delicate mission could scarcely be 
regarded as a mark of great favour, for it had been 

' The genealogists say "de la Remort " ; but this is erroneous. 
L'Armor is a hamlet in the parish of Pleubian, department Cotes- 
du-Nord, 



298 Louise de LaVallifere 

tacitly agreed on both sides to preserve a discreet 
ambiguity/ Moreover, such embassies are short- 
lived. Bellefonds left on July 3, 1670, and was 
back again before the end of the month ; and thence- 
forth his life was a series of odd contrasts. One day, 
he was seen with M. Le Grand, both riding on horses 
" as swift as lightning " for a stake of three thousand 
pistoles — about 150,000 francs in modern money. 
The next, came the news that he had gone to La 
Trappe, as a penitent in retreat under the direction 
of the Abbe de Ranc6. And he came back converted. 

The son of pious parents, the nephew of two 
aunts " in religion " (one a Benedictine, the other a 
Carmelite), and a pupil of the Christian poet Brebeuf,^ 
Bellefonds was sincere in his penitent resolutions. He 
was the father of a handsome family, the master of a 
happy home, a man of irreproachable life, and — whatever 
he may have thought himself — the envied of many ; 
and the only trouble he was known to have was that 
of debt. For, ambitious and proud, a lover of art 
and of adventure, he had long since outrun the 
constable, and was much worried about money-matters. 
Louis, to do him justice, treated him with delicate 
generosity, and freed him from his creditors. But 
the Marshal had lost his high spirits ; he grumbled 
frequently, and — as invariably happens — all sorts of 
things offensive to his susceptibility now began to occur. 

Louvois, the War-Minister, ordered Bellefonds and 
Cr6qui to serve under the command of a colleague, 
who was, like them, a Marshal of France — that is to 

1 See in L'Histoire d'Angleterre, by Rapin-Thoiras, 1728 edition, 
V. IX. p. 253, some curious details on this subject. 

^ HUET, Commentarius de rebtis ad se pertinentibus. See on 
Br6beuf and his brothers an excellent book by M. Ch. Marie, Notice stir 
les trois Brebeuf (Paris, Douniol, 1785) ; and a more detailed account, 
Essai sur la vie et les cBuvres de Georges de Brebeuf, by Renie 
Harmand (Paris, 1897). 



Louise dc La Vallifere 299 

say, their equal in rank. This order seems quite 
natural now, for we know that their colleague was 
Turenne ; but misanthropic Bellefonds regarded it as an 
attack on his prerogative. " He laid the matter before 
His Majesty, and won his cause like a brave gentle- 
man." Next day he left for La Trappe, wishing, 
during Holy Week, to prepare himself for the dangers 
of the campaign. By the time he came back, Louvois, 
who was not addicted to going into retreat, had induced 
the King to change his mind. Louis enjoined Bellefonds 
to obey Turenne, and upon his refusal, banished him 
to Bourgueil (April, 1672). 

It was this last blow which brought Bellefonds and 
Louise together. It will be remembered that when 
Louise, in February, 1671, fled to the Convent at 
Chaillot, she entrusted this friend with the task of 
explaining her motives to the King, and charged him 
to say " that after having given Louis her youth, 
the rest of her life was not too much to spend in 
saving her soul." If Bellefonds could, in 1671, have 
consulted his own inclinations, he would have left 
the Duchess in her convent ; and now he had no 
hesitation in recommending her to seek that refuge 
again. Touchy though he might be, the Marshal was 
otherwise a sensible man. He in no wise undertook 
to direct her conscience, still less to find for her 
one of those counsellors whom she called " rose-water 
confessors." His clear-sighted friendship found the 
right man for her in the person of Father Caesar, a 
bare-foot Carmelite. 

Father Caesar belonged to one of the best families in 
Vic, a little town in the Bishopric of Metz, and was 
called, *' in the world," Jean Friche. Before preaching 
to others of perfection, he had worked hard to attain it 
himself, spending the greater part of the night in prayer, 
sleeping two hours at the most, sometimes not going 



300 Louise dc La Valli^re 

to bed at all. He had been appointed Prior of the 
Convent at Arras, which was a high honour in his Order ; 
then he retired to a place near Namur, where, in a 
monastery called the Deserl, Carmelite monks led lives 
like those of the solitaries in the Primitive Church. 
He had a well-deserved reputation as an enlightened, 
charitable, and ardent director of souls, while at the 
same time he was discreet, and not too original or 
eccentric.^ 

Father Caesar was at one time the pet confessor 
of courtiers ; he used actually to succeed in getting 
them to restore money ! But from Louise de La 
Valliere, nothing of that sort could be obtained. 
His modesty and her humility have thrown a veil 
over this conversion, so that we know not precisely 
what his methods were with the penitent ; but he wore 
the habit of the Carmelites — and she became a Carmelite 
nun. 

To the influence of Bellefonds and that of Father 
Caesar, there was now added another, potent by the 
double force of spotless virtue and never-failing 
kindness of heart. Queen Marie-Therese, proud 
and high-minded, had never been able to accept 
the Court-code of morals, nor could she ever resist 
the proofs, or even the signs, of a genuine remorse. 
Those around her were very witty, but entirely 
ungenerous and unforgiving ; they had made public 
mock of the tender-hearted woman's jealousy, but 

1 La Priere du peckeur penitent, ou T Esprit avec lequel il doit reciter 
rOraison dominicale, by the Reverend Father C^sar, Barefoot 
Carmelite (Georges et Louis Josse, Paris, 1690), with a Eulogy of 
the Reverend Father. See also Journal des Sfavans, 1690, v. XVIII. 
p. 575 (Amsterdam, 1691). The Biblioth^que Nationale does not 
possess the Priere, but it has the Journee sainte, ou Methode pour 
passer saintement la Journee, etc., which is a collection of MSS. by 
Father Csesar (Paris, 1692). This treatise is full of wisdom. Notice- 
able is the interdiction to penitents of the infliction upon themselves 
of physical mortifications, of the use of the hair-shirt, and of discipline, 
without their confessor's advice, 



Louise de La Valli^re 301 

not one among them had noticed her charitable nature. 
Louise, however, had not — except when she was 
obliged — failed in respect towards the Queen. In her 
Reflexions, she speaks of the bitter remorse which 
poisoned the delights of her passion ; and we are 
assured, on good authority, that she felt guilty not 
only before God, but also before that Queen whose 
happiness she was destroying. She felt this even at 
the time of her greatest joys ; she was tormented, 
obsessed, by the remembrance of it when it came to 
her turn to experience the pain of desertion and the 
anguish of jealousy. She had no claim upon her 
faithless lover or against her crafty rival, and she 
realised then what torture she had inflicted on the 
lawful and loving spouse.-^ On the other hand, 
Marie-Therese, kind as she was, was not so stupid 
as people chose to believe. In 1666, after the death 
of Anne of Austria, believing, in her simplicity, that 
the King had broken with La Valliere, she had at 
once opened her door to the forsaken woman. The 
reader will recall her anger when she began to believe 
that she was being mystified. She took a long time 
to see the true state of affairs, but as soon as 
she realised that Louise had been thrown over for 
the Montespan, her heart ached afresh for her ; she 
again took her under her wing — poor, penitent favourite, 
as miserable in her wrong-doing as the Queen in her 
utter fidelity to duty ! 

The year 1672 ended in comparative calm. The 
campaign of 1673 — in which Louis XIV. was followed, 
by his own desire, by his Queen, his cast-off mistress, 
and his reigning favourite — showed the real state of 

1 " She would have wished to continue a frank friendship with a 
Sovereign who inevitably won all hearts. . . But it was wrong to 
endeavour to share a heart which the Sacrament of Marriage had 
consecrated wholly to a lawful wife " iJJIlhistre penitente, p. 36). 



30^ Louise de La Valli^i*^ 

affairs. Marie-Therese installed herself at Tournai, 
and kept La Valliere with her. The Montespan and 
her " inseparable," Mme Scarron, shut themselves up 
at the farther end of the town, in the Citadel. Louise 
was more and more addicted to pious exercises, " She 
puts on an air of devotion," said La Grande Made- 
moiselle, who was there, and as rancorous as ever.^ 
The " air " lasted for more than three years. Louise 
arranged her life in such a way that she could escape 
worldly distractions, could spend some time in thought 
and in prayer — and, under her fine clothes, she wore 
a hair-shirt. In her frank, natural fashion she wrote 
to Bellefonds, who had gone back to the Army and 
was at the Siege of Maestricht : " I very well remember 
our last talks, and am vain enough to tell you that 
I have profited by them, and that I really think I am 
doing wonders. I wish you could judge for yourself, 
for one often flatters one's-self unwittingly." ^ She 
dared not entrust the post or the ordinary couriers 
with her penitent confidences. Such means were far 
from safe, and it was not because of the Dutch that 
this was so. But shortly an incident of war made 
correspondence unnecessary. 

On June 24, 1673, ^^^ Ki^g> uneasy at certain 
demonstrations of the enemy, sent Bellefonds at the 
head of 4,000 cavalry to protect the environs of 
Tournai. So now the Marshal could "judge for 
himself." And great "wonders" she had done, when 
he compared her life with that of Mme de Montespan, 
as he could not help doing. For in spite of their 

1 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 357 : " The Duchesse de La 
Valliere put on an air of devotion during this trip." The elderly 
damsel is all the less excusable for this phrase because she wrote her 
Memoires after Louise had entered the Carmelite Convent. 

2 Memoires de la baronne d'Oberkirch, v. IL p. 232. " She arranges 
her occupations, spends hours in prayer, avoids gaieties. . . She 
is all covered with a hair-shirt." See also Dlllustre penitente^ pp. 40, 41. 



Louise de La Valli^re 303 

repugnance the Duchess and the Marshal were obliged 
to visit, and, as was said then, " communicate " with 
the favourite. 

What the Marquise was hiding in the Citadel of 
Tournai was another pregnancy. Life was so dull 
there that Mme Scarron, despite her firm intention 
of making her fortune, complained bitterly of " this 
boring fortress." The Court shortly received march- 
ing-orders for Amiens. The Queen started first. At 
Orchies, while she was at dinner, one of the Royal 
carriages went by at a gallop. Mme de Montespan 
was in it. Though it was French soil, and the Dutch 
were miles away, the carriage was escorted by some 
Guards, detailed from the Army ; for at Orchies, as 
at Genitoy and Saint-Germain, the husband, that foe 
of one's own household, was the haunting terror ! 

The campaign ended in a trip to Alsace and Lorraine. 
Mme Scarron stayed in Paris, watching over the grow- 
ing group of little unacknowledged adulterous chil- 
dren (July 22, 1673).-^ The Marquise de Montespan 
took the road again, and went back to Thionville 
to take her place in the Queen's carriage. Louis was 
more devoted than ever to the ambitious daughter of 
the House of Mortemart. From Nancy, he wrote to 
Colbert to hurry on the work in the apartments which 
she occupied at Saint-Germain. It was his writing, 
but her dictation. There she wanted an aviary, here 
a garden, everywhere flowers. 'Tis said that in the 
early days of her abandonment, Louise de La Valli^re 

1 Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, V. IV. p. 343. In the CEuvres de Louis 
XIV. (v. V. p, 513) is quoted a letter from Metz, August 31, 1673, 
where the King tells Colbert to give the " letters which have no super- 
scription " to the person " he spoke of on leaving." This letter is 
plainly a mere copy of that quoted by us under the date 1663, when 
Louis XIV. was at Marsal. Pere Cl6ment reproduces this error 
in Madame de Montespaft, etc., p. 46. The text, which he gives 
again in his edition of the Lettres, Instructions- de Colbert (v. VI. 
p. 209) is correct. 



304 Louise de La Valli^re 

uttered some complaints before the Mar^chal de 
Grammont. He was a good fellow, but a courtier first 
of all, and he told her that *' when it had been her time 
to laugh, she ought to have made others laugh, if 
she wanted them to weep when she was weeping." 
Madame de Montespan, a very different sort of person, 
was now promising, demanding, giving. She was 
called " the Munificent Beauty " — munificent with the 
King's money, that was what she was ! And by this 
means she made quantities of friends. That philosopher 
by compulsion, Bussy-Rabutin, suddenly remembered 
that he was related to one of her;relations.^ Mme de 
Grignan wrote perpetually to her mother to "get on 
good terms with the favourite's friends," and Mme de 
Sevigne, faute de mieux, made up to the " confidante," 
Mme Scarron, who alas ! had no influence on her 
mistress. The Marquise was at the zenith of her 
power. Not only could she dismiss the Queen's Maids 
at her will, but she actually succeeded in suppressing 
them altogether as an institution — and so beheaded, 
at a single stroke, that charming Hydra-headed monster 
which was called the Chamhre des Filles. 

While the Montespan returned in triumph to Paris, 
the Duchesse de La Valliere, long since out of the 
running,^ even in thought, also returned thither, but 
with the firm resolve to retire from the world. When 

^ Cofrespondance, Lalanne edition, v. I. p. 348. " Thianges is my 
own relation." 

2 We mention here, merely to prove that we have seen it, a letter 
from Bussy of Sep. 7, 1677— a very coarse production, in which 
he dares neither to accuse nor whitewash La Valliere. Bussy was a 
blackguard, very witty, but utterly heartless and insincere, cringing and 
scandal-mongering, and cynical to the core. {Correspondance, v. III. 
p. 352.) As an agreeable variety, we quote a few lines from the 
Memoires de Sotirches, v. I. p. 18 (Hachette edition), where it is said 
that " Louise was entirely charming, gentle, and engaging; she loved 
the King passionately, and thought only of pleasing him. She did 
not even look after her own interests — and she utterly neglected those 
of her family." 



Louise de La Valli^re 305 

the blow of her disgrace had first fallen upon her, her 
wounded vanity had inspired her with the insane idea 
of being virtuous at Court. She now knew how 
fragile are such human resolutions, when unsanctioned 
from above. 



20 



CHAPTER VIII 

OCTOBER, 1673 APRIL, I 674 

GENEROUS hearts do not easily break the bonds 
which attach them to others, even when those 
others are egotistic and ungrateful. Before 
making up her mind, Louise pondered deeply on 
her duties — towards her family, her children, even 
towards the King. 

To her family she owed little enough. Her 
mother, who seems to have been lacking in moral 
sense, had in the beginning scarcely blamed, if 
indeed she did not actually encourage, her error. The 
lady, however, would have liked to be the mother-in- 
law— legitimate and avowed — of a son-in-law less 
imposing than Louis XIV. 

The romantic Catherine de Saint-Remi was now 
Madame de Hautefeuille. La Valliere arranged 
pensions for these two improvident women. Her 
brother had a fine position already ; her sister-in-law 
was a favourite at Court. As to the King, he had 
now for long been nothing more than the master to 
her. Despite her wilful blindness, Louise had been 
obliged at last to realise the idol's feet of clay. He 
was no longer a god — he was but that type of idol ! 
The woman knew she surpassed the man, the King, 
in delicacy of feeling ; she loved him still, but the 
spell was broken. She had resolved to go, whatever 
it cost her, and she had also resolved to speak. 

306 



Louise de La Valli^re 307 

There was still a critical point, though. What was 
Louise's duty towards her children ? If she regarded 
only their material welfare, they were better off than 
she was. Marie-Anne was by anticipation Duchesse de 
Vaujours. The little Due de Vermandois had been 
tardily, but richly, provided for. Colbert was managing 
their affairs for them ; Mme Colbert had the care of 
their personal well-being. Louise saw her son and 
daughter from time to time ; but she had nothing 
to say to their education. All she could do was to 
give advice, and what advice could possibly be so 
effective as the example of a life of repentance .? 
To rehabilitate herself would be to benefit her 
children incalculably. 

Well, then, retreat resolved upon — where should 
she retire ? La Grande Mademoiselle attributes to 
her the idea of going as pensionnaire to the Visitation 
at Chaillot. That was where Mile de La Motte- 
Argencourt — victim of the Queen-mother's hasty 
wrath ! — had been leading a quiet, but unfettered, 
existence since 1661. But Louise was too sincerely 
penitent to be content with half-measures. She was 
not looking for a convent where life was unchangingly 
delicate, where ambition was still at large, where 
luxury and beauty reigned beneath the habit of the 
nun : such retreats as suited the daughters of a 
Mortemart. In love, she had looked only for love ; 
in remorseful penitence, she looked only for a cell, and 
for pardon. 

She did hesitate, but it was between two such 
austere orders that her hesitation cannot be imputed to 
weakness. Sometimes she went to that Convent of 
the Capucines which has given its name to a boulevard 
of Paris. To this church it was that the body of the 
Comte de Guiche, who had died at Kreuznach, had 
just been brought. Every year of his exile had added 



J 



08 Louise de La Valli^re 



lustre to the fame of Armand de Guiche. He had In 
him the stuff of two brilliant men. Far more cultured 
than the average fine gentleman of his time, he had 
given proofs of political ability and tact ; and in 
literary work, which he also modestly attempted, he 
showed an admirable sense of style. When Louis XIV 
pardoned him and he came back to France, he had 
seemed to lose at Court the moderation and tact 
which he had acquired in Holland ; but then again 
he had covered himself with glory at the Passage of 
the Rhine, only to die soon afterwards — of exhaustion, 
some said ; of poison, affirmed others. Whichever it 
was, he died like a brave soldier and a Christian, 
asking pardon of all whom he had offended.^ Two 
of the four actors in that comedy of love and lies, 
begun in 1661, were now dead. Guiche had followed 
Madame ; and La Valli^re was soon to follow Guiche 
into a sort of voluntary death. It is easy enough to 
understand why she did not choose the Capucines 
for her retreat, closely connected with the Grammonts 
as it was. 

Sometimes, Louise went to the Carmelite nuns of 
the Grand Convent, in the Rue d'Enfer. She had 
been struck by the look of tranquil happiness on the 
faces of these holy women ; and soon she was to 
notice — sadly enough ! — a still more remarkable trait 
in their behaviour. Once, during a visit, before she 
had hinted in any way at her project, a friend of hers 
happened to mention that it was the Duchesse de La 
Valli^re whom she had with her. The nuns at once 



1 Gazette de France, 1673, p. 1240. Guiche was buried in the 
chapel of Saint-Antony of Padua. In LHistoire de la guetre de 
Hollande, v. I. p. 113 (1689), it is said that Guiche died of grief because 
he had been beaten in a skirmish. " Others beheved he had been 
poisoned ; for people will never allow that great gentlemen can die 
like ordinary folk." See also Correspondance de Roger de Rabuiin, 
V. II. p. 321. 



Louise de La Valliere 309 

drew back. Far from resenting this, Louise respected 
them all the more for it ; and it was the principal 
reason which made her, in the end, select their convent 
for her retreat. 

The Carmelite rule is scarcely known in our time, 
but at that time people were better acquainted with its 
peculiarities — its rigorous exercises, its continual morti- 
fications, its painful fastings : a life, indeed, which ^ is 
little more than a kind of death. Despite — or rather, 
by reason of, these austerities — the Carmelites inspired 
Mme de La Valliere with such respect that she did 
not venture to approach them directly, but sought a 
mediator in the request she wished to make of them. 
It happened that her friend, the Marechal de Belle- 
fonds, had an aunt who was a nun in the Great Convent. 
He succeeded in gaining her interest, and she was a 
woman of much ability, as well as piety. All this may 
seem astonishing, but readers must know that neither 
caprice nor worldly influence obtains the entree to the 
Carmelites. Those who dream of brooding in a cloister 
because they happen to be satiated with " the world," 
are quickly pointed elsewhere ; while to those whose 
conduct has been irregular, the door is closely shut. 
The Rule demands that postulants shall be of stainless 
morals, and untouched by scandal. And so there was 
long hesitation before they decided to receive the 
Duchesse de La Valliere ; but at last charity over- 
came too strict an observance of the ordinance, and 
towards the end of October, the Marshal was authorised 
to promise Louise her admission as a postulant. On 
November 2, Louise answered him : *' You give me 
great joy when you assure me that I shall be received 
when I find I am able to tear myself away from here. 
It seems enough for the present." Not that she was 
hesitating ; but she foresaw the thousand obstacles 
which would certainly arise. However, she went to 



3IO Louise de La Valli^re 

thank the nuns, and came back more athirst for her 
freedom than ever. The practical good sense of the 
holy women, too, far from over-exciting her zeal, 
sought to modify and regulate it. Louise was unwell 
at the time, and she was advised not to make any 
decision until she was restored to health. She obeyed 
— and yearned for the unreserved giving of herself 
to God more than she had ever done before. She 
said, with her exquisite simplicity : " I feel, despite 
the magnitude of my offences — which I never forget — 
that love has more to do with my sacrifice than even 
my need to do penance." 

Characteristically, she told her plans to those best 
able to advise her. Life is full of strange paradoxes 
— and one of the men who most influenced Louise 
to enter upon the narrow path was the son of that 
very Saint-Aignan who in 1661 had helped to push 
her towards her ruin. The old Duke assuredly got no 
more venerable with age, and his two daughters, 
Abbesses against their will (and very indiscreet 
Abbesses into the bargain), were by this time notorious 
for their scandalous lives ; but this second son — now 
the head of the family — actually showed real good 
qualities at Court ! Saint-Aignan, Due de Beauvilliers, 
was Colbert's son-in-law, so that he and Louise met 
quite naturally/ He was also the friend of Bellefonds, 
Fenelon, and Bossuet. This last, now the Dauphin's 
tutor, was unchanged from what he had been in the 
Advent of 1662 : an able man and an inspired priest, 
he now received the confessions of the remorseful Louise. 
He marvelled at God's great mercy towards her ; he 
urged her strongly to carry out her present idea, and 

1 See two articles by M. Giraud in the Correspondant for Jan. 25, 
and Feb. 25, 1877. Madame de La Valliere, d'apres des documents 
inedits. M. Giraud has confused the Due de Beauvilliers with his 
father, Saint-Aignan. 



Louise de La Valli^re 311 

even prophesied that she would do so sooner than 
she then thought. But, satisfied with the state of 
mind he perceived in her, he judged it best not to 
persuade her to an effort which as yet she felt to be 
beyond her strength. 

And in truth such prudence was very good for her. 
She had hardly returned from her visit to the Carme- 
lites before all the world was talking: of her retirement. 
Her friends and relatives hastened to deplore the 
project in the most moving terms they could com- 
mand. But she was adamant. What would Mme 
de Montespan think and say, though } And what 
the King } The Due de Beauvilliers, who could speak 
with authority, intimated to Bellefonds that it would 
be well to proceed with caution.-^ Bossuet had 
promised to arrange with the victorious mistress for 
the retirement of the forsaken one. He spoke as he 
felt, saying that no opposition could rightly be offered 
to this intention. The Montespan assuredly was not 
concerned for the fate of her rival — but what a terrible 
precedent it would be ! She was afraid of the Carme- 
lites — that was the truth ; and, like all frightened folk, 
she dissimulated. True to herself, the daughter of the 
Mortemarts tried the trick of ridicule. Bossuet pro- 
tested ; the lady persisted, said the same thing over 
and over again, "with variations," insisted on having 
the last word, in short, and answered the apostolic 
exhortations by sending Mme Scarron — most sage 
adviser ! — to the Duchesse de La Valliere. That astute 
lady observed that there were " risks in a sudden 
change from the luxury of Court-life to the austerities 

' See letters for December 20 and November 28, 1673 (also those 
for November 21 and December 10, same year) published in an article 
in the Correspondant, Feb. 25, 1877, Madaine de La Valliere et 
son temps, by M. Giraud. The author of the article attributes them 
to the Due de Saint-Aignan ; but this is a palpable error, as we shall 
show further on. 



312 Louise de La Valli^re 

of the cloister. Would it not be wiser to make a 
trial-trip, to enter the Convent only as a benefactress, 
until Mme la Duchesse saw whether she could observe 
the Rule or not ? She could serve God in that way — 
as a secular nun, so to speak." 

Louise's answer was very decisive. " Would that 
be a penance.'* Such a life is very pleasant. That 
is not what I want." "But just look ! " resumed the 
other. " There you are, all glittering with jewels — 
and in a few days, you are to be in a serge gown ! " 

Louise, to make an end, replied that for a long 
time she had been sleeping on the bare floor, wearing 
the hair-shirt, enduring all the austerities of the 
Carmelites. 

Many years later (1703) Mme Scarron, then become 
Marquise de Maintenon, quoted these simple answers 
as a lovely sign of grace ; but whether she then so 
well appreciated them may be questioned. There 
is an echo of the same worldly counsels in a letter 
from Mme de Sevigne, dated December 15, 1673 : 
" Mme de La Valliere no longer talks of her retire- 
ment : she is satisfied with having mentioned it. Her 
maid implored her, on her knees, not to go into a 
convent. How could she possibly resist that ? " At 
almost the same moment, the same lady — rather below 
her own level in cleverness, for once ! — raved of the 
piety of " la Marans," a sister of the Montalais damsel ; 
and also spoke of Mme de Thianges, the too-notorious 
sister of the Montespan, as " being really exquisitely 
religious." But though she might strive to turn 
Louise's resolve into ridicule, Mme de Montespan, 
who was remarkably intelligent despite her wickedness, 
made no mistake with regard to its irrevocable nature. 
And the King was of the same opinion. Not that 
La Valliere or her friends dared speak to him of 
it ; but Louis knew all, through other channels. He 



Louise de La Valli^re 313 

could give no definite pronouncement, however, until 
his mind was set at rest about two dangers which even 
his omnipotence had not as yet removed : namely, the 
possible reclaiming of the wife by the injured husband, 
and of the children by their legally-attested father ! 
That odd, troublesome person, Montespan, could 
revenge himself terribly if he chose : he could find, 
claim, acknowledge the children of his Marquise. And 
to think of the Blood-Royal being subject to such 
a vengeance was nothing short of sacrilege ! Yet, to 
make the fearful possibility a reality, all that was 
necessary was an indiscretion from a person like the 
Heudicourt girl ! Louis resolved to " get the start 
of him " — to legitimate his adulterine children. 

It was easy enough for the King to sign the 
Letters of Legitimation : had he not already done so ? 
Unfortunately, on this occasion, there was one great 
obstacle. To name the mother was to reveal the fact 
that the so-called " legitimated " children were already 
perfectly legitimate — for their legal father, Montespan, 
had not repudiated them ! And, consult precedents 
as one might, none could be found in which the mother 
was not mentioned. Henri IV., that champion 
legitimator, had always named the mothers. Not 
that that versatile King had not found himself in 
the same boat as his grandson now did : he had had 
to legitimate Cesar de Vendome and Antoine de Moret, 
the sons, respectively, of Gabrielle d'Estrees, wife of 
the sieur de Liancourt, and of Jacqueline de Bueil, who 
was married to the sieur de Harlay. But Henri, with 
a show of plausibility, had been able to say in his 
Letters-Patent : " We knew that the marriage was 
null and unconsummated, as is proved by the decree 
of separation and nullity of the said marriage which 
ensued." Now Mme de Montespan had had two 
children, by law two Montespans ; and no decree had 



314 Louise de La Vallifere 

annulled her marriage. Hence the absolute impossi- 
bility of naming the mother. Oh, if La Valliere would 
only have ! But La Valliere did not carry com- 
plaisance so far as to let herself be declared the mother 
of the sons and daughters of her rival. 

The King had long been worried by all this ; and, 
at the beginning of 1673, the imminent arrival of 
another infant brought matters to a crisis. But a 
wonderful coincidence happened just then — Mme la 
Duchesse de Longueville, a penitent at Port-Royal, 
showed the way to legitimate the children of the 
Marquise, a hardened and notorious sinner ! 

The Comte de Saint-Pol, who was killed at the 
Passage of the Rhine, had, in his dying will and testa- 
ment, implored his mother, Mme de Longueville, to 
obtain the legitimation of a natural child whom he 
mentioned by name. Its mother was a married woman 
whom rumour pronounced to be the Marechale de la 
Ferte (yet another customer of the Voisin woman !). 
How had the Duchess been induced to yield to the 
desire of her son } No one knows ; but, at any rate, 
Letters-Patent, dated September 7, 1673, declared the 
Chevalier d'Orleans to be the son of the Comte de 
Saint-Pol, without mentioning the mother. Now the 
same thing could be done for the unacknowledged 
children of Mme de Montespan. 

Of the four who had been born, one — the eldest — 
was dead. There remained two boys : Louis-Auguste 
and Louis-Cesar, and a little girl born on June i, 1673, 
at Tournai. About the middle of December, every- 
thing seemed ready for the recognition, when somebody 
pointed out a serious omission. The means had been 
found for legitimating the children without naming 
the lady, but it was absolutely impossible to do it 
without naming the children themselves. Now the 
little girl, last of this unique, unmothered generation, 



Louise de La Valli^re 315 

had not even a Christian name! On December 18, 
accordingly, she was christened by a priest of Saint- 
Sulpice. The godfather, a little boy of barely three, 
had as proxy an ecclesiastic. The godmother was a 
great and beautiful lady. After the ceremony, it 
was necessary to draw up the certificate, in compliance 
with the Royal behest. At the beginning all went 
well : " On the eighteenth day of December was 
baptized Louise-Fran^oise, born the first day of June 
in the present year. . ." Born of whom ? Here came 
the first hitch ; a blank was left, and they continued : 
*'The godfather, Louis-Auguste. . ." What is the 
godfather's family name ? Another hitch — another 
blank. " Having as his proxy messire Thomas Dandin, 
Priest ; the godmother, c/ame Louise-Fran^oise de La 
Baume Le Blanc, Duchesse de La Valliere." Thomas 
Dandin and the Duchess signed — and that was all. 
The difficulty of formulating certain things remained 
unaltered — and, to this very day, the deed is hidden 
beneath a band of paper which was then affixed to 
it. Louis-Auguste was the future Due du Maine, 
and Louise's god-daughter was the Montespan's own 
child ! 

Two days later (December 20), the Parliament 
registered some deeds of legitimation which had a 
very short preamble : " Louis, by the Grace of God, 
etc. The natural love We bear to Our children, and 
many other reasons which considerably enhance Our 
sentiments, oblige Us to recognise Louis-Auguste, 
Louis-Cesar, and Louise-Fran^oise." The first was 
made Due du Maine ; the second, Comte de Vexin ; 
the third, Demoiselle de Nantes. The children had 
all that was necessary ; but for the mother — what 
a difference between these Letters and those of 1667, 
where the rare merits of the well-beloved Louise de 
La Valliere were so loudly proclaimed ! Haughty 



3i6 Louise de La Valli^re 

Athenai's had to be content with '* many other 
reasons." 

The Parliament registered, the Audit-Office ap- 
proved, as in duty bound. Nobody suspected that 
the name of Louise-Frangoise, born by the httle 
Mile de Nantes, had been given by Louise de La 
Valliere. What a supreme abnegation ! The gentle- 
hearted woman had accepted, as her spiritual daughter, 
the child of the only man she had ever loved, and 
of the rival who had loaded her with insults. It 
was a good deal to have done, but not enough to 
gain her her liberty — for though the children's 
position was secure, their mother's was unchangingly 
precarious. 

It was two years since, in 1671, the Royal omni- 
potence had been impotent to obtain a divorce. 
Now it was a case of necessity, and they turned to the 
Marquis. The proud, recalcitrant man yielded at 
last to his evil fate. His mother was dying ; he 
wished to return to France and see her. Moreover, 
exile had finally ruined him. His estates had been 
seized and put up for sale, and his children — his real 
children — would soon be reduced to actual penury. 
The moment was therefore opportune,^ for arranging 
a separation between the Marquise and her husband.^ 

* Lettres inedites des Feuquieres, v. II. p. 436. These letters are 
most interesting, but the editing is very faulty. For instance, the 
letter whence we take this passage : " M. de Montespan's mother is 
dead ; he is very seriously inclined just now " — one from Mme de 
Chaumont to Isaac de Feuquieres, is dated " Paris, May 5, 1674." It 
is evident, by the text, that the right reading is not Paris, but Fau. 

2 As I have no further hope of being able to return to this portion 
of Mme de Montespan's history, I think it well to prove my assertions 
here and now. A letter (June 17, 1674) from Colbert to Louis XIV. 
shows that Montespan acquiesced in all that was done (P. Clement, 
Madame de Montespan, p. 223). Now Mme de Montespan had 
issued her writ on April 28, 1674 (P. Clement, ibid. p. 365). As- 
suredly the proceedings would never have been recommenced unless 
the Marquis's assent had been obtained, and that could not have taken 
less than a month, whether he was still in exile in Spain, or back 



Louise de La Valli^re 3^7 

Montespan, now once more in mourning, and weary 
of the long intrigue, resigned himself and acquiesced 
in all that was demanded of him. The decree of 
divorce was pronounced. 

It would seem that now no objection could possibly 
be made to letting Louise carry out her project — 
yet a mysterious silence was preserved on the subject ; 
and she, ultra-sensitive, fatigued, and depressed, began 
to suffer from that nervous disorder which then was 
called " the vapours." She hated herself for her weak- 
ness, yet she could not overcome it. Moreover, her 
worldly affairs were still very unsettled, and there was 
no one to help her to regulate them. Gradually she 
perceived that she would have to submit to the morti- 
fication of approaching, or, as she humbly expressed 
it, *' importuning the master." Yet that master was 
acquainted with all her projects, embarrassments, and 
worries ; only, so long as he chose to leave them 
unspoken of, no one, not even Bossuet himself, dared 
to introduce the topic. 

The great King, Louis XIV., laid much stress on 
the fact that only certain hours in his day were 
consecrated to gallantry, and, since these were wholly 
Mme de Montespan's, Louise and her plea were 
nothing but '* importunity," indeed. Moreover, 
the selfish monarch was now dreading a more tragic 
desertion than that of a former mistress. Fortune 
herself seemed to be going to forsake him. The 

in B6arn, with his dying mother. I may add that his attitude was 
entirely dignified. His only care was for the interests of his children, 
and on this point the King's agents were obliged to yield to him. 

My young confreres, MM. Lemoine and Lichtenberger {De La 
Valliere a Montespan), making use of documents discovered by M. 
Paquier, Archivist of the Haute-Garonne, show Montespan in a less 
favourable light. They speak of him as a brutal type of man, and, 
worse, as a venal one. I believe that the Marquis's potential champion 
would find many an arguable point in the accusations which were trumped 
up against him ; and, to speak for myself, I find great difficulty in believing 
that it could ever be proved that Montespan took the first step. 



3i8 Louise de La Valli^re 

campaign of 1673 had ended badly for him; he was 
forced to abandon not only his Dutch conquests, but 
his allies as well. And, to fill up the cup, the General 
Officer entrusted with this gloomy and humiliating 
mission happened to be Bellefonds, the friend and 
mentor of La Valliere. He was not so wise as he 
was generous, for he actually ventured to tell the 
King what the King already knew too well — namely, 
that this desertion of his allies would be exploited 
by his enemies. A war — a long war, and bloody and 
surprising conquests — could alone restore his prestige and 
avenge his injured glory. Bellefonds was morally right, 
but tactically wrong ; he was recalled, and again dis- 
graced. Thus Louise was more isolated than ever. 

Nevertheless, the King had made up his mind 
that the Carnival of 1674 should be a brilliant 
one. The festivities began at Saint-Germain : there 
was a play and a grand opera every day, and a ball 
every week. And Louis, to give things a fillip, 
resumed his dancing. In the midst of this hollow 
gaiety, the Duchesse de La Valliere had to undergo a 
final trial. 

Of Louise's two children, one, the little Admiral, 
aged six, was still in his governess's hands. But the 
other. Mile de Blois, now just eight years old, and 
a precocious, well-grown, lively child, was already the 
admiration of her masters, especially her dancing- 
masters. While she was still in pinafores^ it was 
arranged to introduce her to the great world. What 
mother could refuse herself the pleasure of admiring 
her daughter's first ball-dress, and watching her dance 
her first dance ! Louise beheld her little girl at Mme 
Colbert's, practising her steps, preparing her eifects, 
enchanting Mmede Sevigne. On January 12, Marie- 
Anne, dressed in black velvet, and glittering with 
diamonds like a grown-up lady, entered the ball- 




tr .m il e p dure at Versailles described as Elizabeth of Bavaria. 

LOUISE DE LA VALLIERE. 



Louise de La Valli^re 319 

room. A Royalty almost as juvenile as herself, the 
Prince de Roche-Aymon, a Conti, was her partner. 
They might have been an engaged couple ! On the 
15th, in another gathering of little people, Mile de 
Blois was declared to be a " chef-d'oeuvre^ On the 
24th she had another triumph. Her debut was the 
great event of that January. 

Louise's friends were somewhat uneasy at this 
distraction. Bellefonds was worked upon to write to 
her. She replied at once : " You know I am 
emotional, and people are right when they say Mile 
de Blois moved me deeply. I admit that I was 
delighted to see her looking so pretty. But, at the 
same time, I had my scruples. There ! I confess all — 
but she will not change my purpose one iota. 
These are contradictory feelings, but I am saying 
just what I do feel." And, indeed, how could she 
have felt otherwise } Marie-Anne was so little 
her daughter ! Louise called her *' Mademoiselle," 
and the child answered with " Belle-maman " (" Step- 
mamma"). A still sadder little fact was that the 
small unconscious creature would smile at the 
Montespan, would exact praises from the tormentor of 
her mother : " Madame, you are not noticing your 
friends at all to-day." Every one marvelled at the 
child's *' pretty little ways " ! 

Now that she had made up her mind to separate 
herself from them, Louise wanted to leave her son and 
daughter a souvenir. 

She had already been painted with her two children. 
She is seated, dressed as a Duchess, with a wide blue 
mantle falling from her shoulders to her arms, and 
thence to her feet. On the left is Mile de Blois, on 
her right the little boy, who is resting his head on his 
mother's lap. 

The sister is pointing to a Httle sword lying 



320 Louise de La Valli^rc 

on a cushion. Louise has her arm stretched towards 
a vase of flowers, and has taken one which seems to be 
falling to pieces in her hand. This picture has been 
the subject of curious identifications : it is shown at the 
castle of Eu, as representing the Princess Palatine and 
her children ; at Windsor Castle, as Henrietta of 
England, with her son and daughter. These false 
attributions have made its history somewhat obscure. 
Did it not satisfy Louise de La Valli^re ? Was there 
thought to be something of ostentation in the ducal 
cloak ? At all events, she sat again for Mignard in 
the same attitude, but with a great modification as 
regards the children. The artist placed the Comte de 
Vermandois at her feet. The little Admiral, seated 
on a cushion, is holding a compass and taking measure- 
ments on a map where are figured France, Spain, and 
America. On the other side, Mile de Blois, in a 
flowered gown, is standing with her elbows on a 
table ; her left hand is touching a vase of flowers ; 
with her right she points to some rose-leaves 
which have fallen on the table, and to two books. 
The Duchess is seated in an arm-chair ; her 
corsage is of white silk, lined with rose-colour ; 
there are gold trimmings and a sort of ladder of 
rubies ; the sleeves are full, with a circle on the 
middle arm ; the left inner sleeve puff's out from the 
cuff^ Her hand is pointing to the ground, where 
lie a purse full of gold counters, some cards — with 
an ace of hearts showing — some jewels in an open 
casket, a mask, and a guitar : thus symbolising her 
disdain for play, for gauds, for disguises. . . The 
Duchess is leaning her right arm on the table, and 
holds between her fingers a rose, whence the petals 
are falling. Near these symbols of the past, lie two 
books which are symbols of the future : the Imitation 
and the Rule of Saint Teresa. At the base of a column 



Louise de La Valliere 321 

is the inscription : Sic transit gloria mundt. Finally, 
these words are lettered on a sheet of music : 

"Le monde etale en vain sa pompe et ses appas." 

"J'escoute la voix qui m'appelle. 
Que I'on m6prise aisement 
Pour jouir d'une gloire 6ternelle, 
Celle qui passe en un moment, 
Celle qui passe en un moment," i 

The verse is poor, but the sentiment is excellent. 
Louise was pursuing her aim, slowly but surely, 
unaffectedly, quite sincerely. She said every day 
that she was going to speak to the King, yet she 
did not speak. " That is my whole trouble," she 
wrote to Bellefonds. " Pray God to give me the 
strength to do it. To become a nun is nothing to 
me ; to speak is terrible ! I show you myself 
as I really am. Do not love me less, I beseech you." 
A keen observer, who saw her daily, said : " Her utter 
sincerity will accomplish all ! " 

And so it proved. Like the calmly-flowing tide, 
her gentle, inflexible will surmounted all the difficulties 
— and they were many and peculiar. Between the 
penitent and the Carmelites loomed her creditors ! 
Louise herself admitted that she was a bad manager. 
Money ran through her eager fingers. She owed no 
less than 150,000 livres, and had nothing she could 
really call her own. Vaujours was a majorat. Her vows 
once made, Louise would be legally dead, and Vaujours 
would pass, scot and lot, to her daughter. There- 
fore she asked help from Colbert, who, watching his 
Royal Sphinx, made no reply. But at last the master 
spoke. He authorised the Comte de Vermandois, 

* The poem whence these lines are taken has been set to music. 
My friend, M. Theodore Dubois, has been kind enough to have 
research made for this song in the Biblioth^que du Conservatoire. So 
far, it has not been found. 

21 



32 2 Louise de La Valliere 

a child of six, to lend 150,000 livres to his mother, 
with the usual interest. All was now arranged ; and 
on March 19, Louise wrote to the friend whom 
she loved the best, because he was the sternest 
counsellor she had had : " At last I can leave the 
world behind ; I do it without regret, but not without 
pain." She added : " My weakness has held me back 
a long time, though I was an unwilling captive — or, to 
speak more plainly, a broken-hearted one. You know 
why, and you know how sensitive I am ; I am still the 
same in that way, as I realise afresh every day of my 
life — and I see, too, that the future would be no brighter 
than the past and the present have been. So you see 
that, as to the worldly side of it, I ought to be glad ; 
and if we speak of the Divine mercy, you know whether 
I am sensible of His abundant grace, and of my own 
unworthiness. I yearn to acknowledge both fully — to 
give myself absolutely to Him. . . They all go away 
at the end of April — and I also, but / am going along 
the Heavenly Path. May God grant me to advance 
in it — to obtain pardon for my sins. I feel so calm 
and gentle, yet so resolute, and even so hard (it may 
seem contradictory, but that is how I feel), that those 
who know me best are more and more amazed at 
God's mercy towards me ... I am losing M. de 
Condom, for Mgr. le Dauphin is to travel for a while. 
I had asked him to preach the sermon on my taking 
the veil. If he is not back by the time I am considered 
fit to take it, I think I shall choose Pere Bourdaloue. 
He preached a wonderful Passion-Sermon — it must 
have touched the hardest hearts. I talked with him a 
few days ago ; I like him extremely, and he is so 
penetrated with the truths he preaches, that it is a real 
spiritual joy to know him." 

Although half a nun, Louise was still very woman. 
That is shown in the preceding passages, and those 



Louise de La Valliere 323 

which follow are quite as remarkable. " As for M. 
de Condom, he is admirable in every way. I shall 
not fail to persuade him to go on writing to you. 
And do you, on your side, exhort him to have as little 
as possible to do with dangerous people. You under- 
stand me. His intentions will always be absolutely 
pure, but only those who have the same can judge him 
aright. I speak like this because of his coming journey. 
You know that at Tournai he will necessarily have 
more of these relations than he would desire, and he 
ought to be on his guard. It is very presumptuous 
to give advice to a man like him ; but people permit 
all sorts of things from one who is half a nun, and 
who hopes soon to be entirely one. I am very much 
obliged to M. de Grenoble for speaking to me as he 
has done ; you know that frank plain-speaking does 
not offend nor frighten me, despite the weakness 
of my temperament — I wish I could be like you ! 
Pray continue to give me your prayers and your 
counsel, and those of your friends ; I shall try to profit 
by them, and I promise in return never to forget you 
before God." 

This delicate feeling, this frank jealousy, give some 
idea of what La Valliere must have suffered during the 
long years in which the object of her one devotion had 
forced her to be the witness — nay, more ! the blind — 
of his love for a rival. 

While awaiting the realisation of the new pact 
between the Marquis de Montespan and the King, a 
last month of inaction was imposed upon Louise — a 
month at Versailles, in that Palace whose glories had 
once been offered her as a homage to her beauty, and 
close to that Pavilion in the Rue de la Pompe where 
her lover had vowed eternal love ! Was there ever 
such a novitiate .? ... But at last all the opposition 
broke down, and liberty, that supreme test of vacillating 



3^4 Louise de La Valli^re 

wills, found and left unshaken the resolution of the 
penitent woman. 

" You know, O Lord," she had said, " you know 
what I am : the instability of my best impulses, the 
way in which worldly influences efface the impressions 
which your grace makes on my heart ; how prone I 
am to be absorbed in vain pleasures, trifles of every 
kind ; how flattery and worldly success turn my head 
and intoxicate me — in a word, O Lord, you know, 
much better than I know myself, how susceptible I am 
to evil, how vacillating in what is good — how utterly 
inconsistent towards you — and that is why, O Lord, 
being never sure of myself, my heart turns to you in 
the day of its aflliction, in the day of its bitter need." 

And God heard her prayer at last. The young, fair 
woman, scarcely thirty, full of vitality, of renewed 
beauty, now spoke with assurance of the very date 
when she would bury herself alive in the Carmelite 
Convent — and the coldest, hardest hearts were touched.^ 

But it seemed to be written that no mortification 
should be spared to her sensitive and delicate soul. 
Colbert had got the money to pay her creditors ; but 
Louise, as we have said, had other obligations, and 
these, being entirely moral ones, were all the more 
pressing. First there was her mother, old Mme Saint- 
Remi, who would have liked so much to Hve with her 
daughter, provided that that daughter had, besides her 
title, an income and a husband — a husband who would 
make a more accessible son-in-law than the haughty 
King.^ Then came her two sisters. One, Mme de 

1 " What could be more charming than to see you hold to your noble 
project in the midst of the Court-life ? You allowed every one to 
speak to you about it, to mention the very day of its execution ! " 
(Fromenti^res, Sermon pour la veture de Madame de La Valliere). 

2 " The King neither liked nor respected her mother, and indeed she 
was scarcely ever allowed to visit La Valliere " (Mile de Montpensier, 
V. IV. p. 358). 



Louise de La Valli^re 325 

Hautefeullle, had more family than fortune. And 
there were several cousins besides, though these had 
not always been kind to her ; and, last of all, there 
were some faithful servants. The King knew of her 
embarrassments in this direction, but he never alluded 
to them. Once more she was obliged to *' importune 
the master," On April 18, she collected all her 
jewels, and sent them to him to be divided between 
her son and daughter. At the same time, she timidly 
submitted a list of the pensions she wished to arrange : 
2,000 ecus a year to her mother ; 2,000 livres to her 
married sister ; too livres to each of her servants. 
She also gave some souvenirs — rings, bracelets, and 
so on — to intimate friends. Louis authorised these 
liberalities by a word, written in his own hand.^ 

On April 20, 1674, the Duchess began her farewell- 
visits. She made them very simply and with perfect 
dignity : it was like a Princess taking leave of a hospit- 
able Court. The Court had its Sovereign. Louise de 
La Valliere, Duchesse de Vaujours, cousin of the King, 
mother of two of the King's children, must necessarily 
take leave of the King. . . Louis could not restrain 
his emotion. The spirit of sacrifice in others always 
touched him profoundly — egotist that he was ! He 
wept. The woman showed herself stronger than the 
man. Dreading a futile return of tenderness, Louise 
bowed and withdrew. And this was the moment 
which the Due de Montausier selected for saying to 
the Duchess that she was certainly showing a most 



^ Mile DE MoNTPENSiER, Memoires, v. IV. p. 358. Leti, Teatro 
Gallico, V. II. p. 89, says that the King wrote her a note with his own 
hand: *' con big lietfo di propria mano." And although of the earher 
history Leti is no very authentic chronicler, he is to be trusted here. 
Cf. what was said above of two orders given by Louis XIV. to the 
steward of the Comte de Vermandois, M. I'Abbe DucLOS {Mme de La 
Valliere, v. II. p. 534). Letters-Patent of April 5, 1675, confirmed the 
pensions (P. Anselme, v. V. p. 475), 



326 Louise de La Valliere 

edifying example, but ought to have shown it 
sooner ! ^ It was this tactful, kindly person's own 
wife who, in 1664, at Vincennes, had thrust Louise, 
all hesitant and ashamed, into the apartments of the 
two offended Queens. 

Of these Queens only one was now alive — Marie- 
Therese, who had long since forgiven. But Louise 
had not forgiven herself. She resolved to make her 
apologia before the whole Court. Montausier's rude- 
ness had its pendant in a stupid speech by the Marechale 
de la Motte. She was a big fat woman — a good 
mother, for in 1661 she had managed to save her 
daughter from the King ; a bad aunt, for, two years 
later, she would not at all have objected to her niece 
becoming the favourite. She listened to Louise's 
apologia^ " but," she observed, " it would have been 

better not to say that sort of thing before every 

■>■> 
one. 

" My crimes were public," replied Louise ; " my 
repentance must be public too." Then she flung 
herself at the Queen's feet, and that noble woman 
raised her, embraced her, and once more assured her 
of her forgiveness. 

Mme de Montespan was disconcerted by the great 
emotional effect of these farewell visits.^ She got hold 
of Louise and brought her to *' her own house " — for 
there was no further talk of 'T'he Ladies. And it was 
there that Louise de La Valliere ate her last Court- 

1 Leti, Teatro Gallico, v. II. p. 90. " Madame, yours is the most 
edifying example that any one can possibly give the world, and I am 
amazed that so high-minded a lady should have been so long in 
deciding to do as you are doing." See, on the Duchess, the Memoires 
de Rene Rapin, v. III. p. 430. 

^ " All these farewells bored Mme de Montespan considerably ; 
and whether she feared that pity might re-awaken the King's love, or 
for some other reason, she was evidently very impatient that the 
Duchess should retire to her convent " {Correspondance de Roger de 
Rabutin^ v. II. p. 344). 



Louise de La Vallicre 327 

supper ; there, too, that Mademoiselle de Montpensier, 
unchangingly hostile, came to bid her good-bye " out 
of curiosity." 

The next day,^ the Duchess went to the King's 
Mass. He, as before, could not restrain his tears ; an 
hour later, his eyes were still red. On coming out of 
the Chapel, Louise got into a carriage. Her two 
children were with her. Friends and relatives followed 
in another carriage. . . Thirteen years earlier — day 
for day! — "little La Valliere," Maid-of-Honour, had 
set out, in innocent young gladness, for Fontainebleau ; 
and now she was going to a living grave. In 1674, 
as in 1 66 1, the Court was assembled. They thronged 
round her carriage. She had put on a beautiful gown. 
She was scarcely thirty, and she was looking handsomer 
than ever. Tears and admiration conflicted in the 
watching faces. It might have been a funeral — or a 
triumphal progress ! Louise quitted the great world 
characteristically — with a gracious smile upon her face ; 
and the world has never forgotten it. 



The heavy Convent-door closed upon her. Many 
people, hoping to frighten her off, had told her that 
she would be dazed when she heard that lugubrious 
shutting. But, on the contrary, she felt nothing but 
gladness, " My Mother," she said to the Reverend 
Mother Claire of the Holy Sacrament, then Prioress, 
" I have made a bad use of my will all my life ; 
but now I resign it into your hands for ever." They 
led her to the altar. She offered herself to God, and 
asked, as a favour, to be allowed to don the religious 
habit — wishing to anticipate, as far as possible, the 
vows which she might not yet pronounce. On the 

^ According to the Gazette de France, it was on April 19 that Mme 
de La Valliere entered the Carmelites. See year 1674, p. 520. 



328 Louise de La Valli^re 

very night of her arrival, she cut off her hair. This 
essentially feminine sacrifice was almost immediately 
known to all Paris ; and when Paris knew that those 
golden locks had fallen on the flag-stones of a cell, 
there was no longer any doubt that La Valliere had 
shut herself up for ever.^ 

Next day, the Court left for Franche-Comte. For 
the first few miles, they talked of the favourite's 
retirement. Ten miles farther on, it was forgotten. 
*' After all," as La Grande Mademoiselle hinted, " she 
was not the first converted sinner," Louise's brother 
was with the Court, and Seignelay undertook to keep 
him amused. Louis was utterly devoted to the 
Montespan — utterly oblivious of the sincere, un- 
mercenary woman who had lived for him alone. 

^ Circular letter from the Prioress of the Carmelites. See P. 
Clement, Reflexions, v. II. p. 129. Bussy-Rabutin knew of this, and. 
according to him, Louise cut off her hair with her own hands. 



FOURTH PART 

1674 — 1 7 10 



3=9 



CHAPTER I 

APRIL, 1674 JUNE, 1675 

FROM the first day of her arrival at the Carmelites, 
Louise submitted to the Rule for the Vigils, for 
the vestment, for the footgear — that low foot- 
gear which was so painful to her delicate feet. The 
Sisters had supposed that it would take her some time 
to grow accustomed to their relatively coarse, and 
certainly frugal, nourishment ; they had thought of 
accustoming her gradually to it, but, mistress of her 
body as well as of her mind, the penitent said she 
wished to live the life common to them all. One 
feeling inspired her, and one alone : she felt so safe ! 
" I have been here two days," she wrote to Bellefonds ; 
" and I am so satisfied and so calm that I marvel at 
the goodness of God. My chains have been broken 
by His grace ; and I shall strive to make my whole 
life pleasing to Him, if I can, so as to prove to Him 
my gratitude. I shall not enter into details to-day ; 
you will be content with knowing I am safe." 

But it was a precarious safety. A word of Bossuet's 
shows us that despite the consent and the solemn 
leave-takings and the actual retirement, there was still 
some arriere-pensee in the master's mind and in the 
Montespan's. Louise's entrance at the Carmelites 
" had," he says, " brought about quarrels. Souls 
cannot be saved from the world without tempests." 
In society, it was the fashion still to disbelieve 
in the Duchess's definite retirement. Certainly, she 

331 



332 Louise de La Valli^re 

had had her hair cut off, but she had kept two lovely 
curls in front — and moreover she laughed and said 
witty things. " She declares that she is enchanted 
with her solitude," wrote Mme de Sevigne (who was 
herself too witty that time !) " She thinks she's in 
a desert, hanging on her convent-grille ! " ^ 

Louise's only reply to this chatter was to ask the 
Carmelites to shorten the Postulate, which usually 
lasted from three to six months. For in reality, she 
had been a postulant for three years. Nor is it needful 
to be long at the Carmelites to understand their mode 
of life. All the cells are ahke. Those at the Convent 
in the Rue d'Enfer had been built on plans sent from 
Spain. Four bare walls, a door, a window. For 
furniture, a wooden bed shaped like a coffin, with a 
palliasse of coarse straw, roughly-quilted and hard, 
and serge coverings. Beside the bed, a straw-seated 
chair. As ornaments, a crucifix, and one or two images. 
The Rule forbids all personal possessions. And the 
same simplicity reigns in the Refectory : wooden 
spoons, earthen vessels, a little china jar. Food to 
match, always maigre : milk, cheese, vegetables — fish, 
as a rare treat. They rise early, at five o'clock in 
the morning ; they retire late, at eleven o'clock ; and 
all through the long day. Prioress, professed nuns, 
novices, postulants — each works hard. The last, who 
are spared in no wise, soon find out if the life suits 
them. All they have left to learn is to wear the habit ; 
a serge under-garment, coarse cotton stockings, alpar- 
gates — which are a sort of low shoes made of cord, 
without any heels — a serge robe ; on their heads, the 
band and the veil. As the Duchess had been authorised 
to wear the habit from the beginning, she knew the worst 
by the end of a week or two. She found straw chairs 

* Possibly Louise was told to keep the two curls, in view of the 
ceremony of publicly cutting off her hair. 



Louise de La Valli^re 333 

again, as in her garret at Reugny — and she found 
too, again, the innocence of her childhood's days. 

Less than three months after her admission, she 
was permitted to choose her day for taking the veil. 
She chose the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, when 
the Gospel appointed to be read is that of the shepherd 
bringing back the lost sheep on his shoulders. As 
was customary, a sermon was to be preached. Louise 
had asked first Bossuet, then Bourdaloue, to preach 
it. Both were prevented ; and M. de Fromentieres, 
Bishop-Designate of Aire, consented to take their place. 
He was a man of ripe judgment and very delicate 
feeling — a little cold, perhaps, and of an essentially 
melancholy disposition, which was a rare thing in those 
days. He was evidently attracted by his subject : 
the unusual conversion of a repentant great lady — 
still young and beautiful and reputed to be rich, who 
was immolating herself voluntarily in expiation of a 
single error, and one which the world not only pardoned, 
but excused. By a moving coincidence, showing the 
sympathy between their minds, he selected his text 
from the story of the Good Shepherd. 

An immense concourse — for everybody who had 
not gone to Franche-Comt6 was there — filled the little 
Church of the Carmelites. In it were to be seen the 
young Mademoiselle, Mme de Longueville, Mme de 
Guise ; and, close to these pious ladies, more worldly 
ones, Mesdames de Bouillon and de Meckelbourg. 
The postulant regains her full liberty at the ceremony 
of taking the veil. Louise once more put on a 
Court-dress — then came out from the cloister, and 
took her place in the choir, among her own people. 
The Abbe Pirot officiated. When the moment came, 
she went, taper in hand, to the " regular " door, where 
the nuns received her and led her, first to the choir, 
then to the altar-rails, where she knelt down. The 



334 Louise de La Valliere 

officiating priest then asked her the following 
questions : 

" What do you desire ? " 

" The mercy of God, the poverty of the Order, and 
the company of the Sisters." 

" Do you come of your own free will and desire, 
to receive the habit of this Order ? Have you made 
no binding promise of marriage ? Have you no 
debts beyond your means ? Have you the firm 
intention to persevere to the end of your life in this 
Religion ? " 

Only one of these questions could have embarrassed 
the novice — that about her debts. Without dwelling 
upon it, the Abbe Pirot pursued : " Do you then 
desire to enter this Religion for the love and fear of 
our Saviour alone ? " 

And Louise replied : *' Yes, with the grace of God 
and the prayers of the Sisters." 

It was now the turn of Fromentieres.'^ Never 
was sermon more in harmony with the circumstances. 
Even to-day, at two centuries' interval, one cannot 
read it without feeling that there was an electric 
current of sympathy between the preacher and the 
congregation — and without that, no discourse or sermon 
can be aught but a monotonous drone in drowsy ears. 
The Bishop did not flinch before his heroine — if that 
pagan word be permitted in such a connection. Of 
her he spoke as a glad missionary might speak of 
a convert ; her he exhorted with all the authority 
of a Bishop. He declared to her insistently that the 
religious life is no asylum for weak souls, no refuge 
from the trials of existence. " Do not imagine that the 

1 The Formulary thus expresses it : " And then the preacher will 
tell her briefly what it means to live in obedience, chastity, and 
poverty." 

Manual of the Several Divine Offices for the use of the Nuns of the 
Order of Notre-Dame de Mont-Carmel (Paris, 1663), p. 153. 



Louise de La Valli^re 335 

holy joy you now feel will remain unaltered. Pain, I 
am bound to tell you, will follow hard on this joy." 
Then, turning to those present, and speaking, indeed, 
for many who were absent as well, he added : " Grace 
to-day raises this soul to be a shining example for all 
its time ; but if that time do not profit by it, that 
example may one day be its undoing, its eternal 
condemnation. If so great a mercy be vouchsafed us 
in vain, there is no hope of our salvation." ^ 

When the sermon was over, Louise de La Valliere 
received the habit, which had been blessed by the 
Archbishop of Paris ; then, retiring with the nuns, 
she doffed for ever her ducal apparel, took the 
hair-shirt, the habit of coarse woollen stuff, put on 
her bare feet the cord alpargates^ and came back to the 
chapel, where she received the girdle, the scapulary, and 
the cloak. Then the Prioress led her to the centre of 
the choir and made her prostrate herself, with her 
arms spread out to form a cross, upon a carpeting 
of coarse serge, and there she lay, prone, until the 
end of the ceremony, when, after having knelt and 
kissed the Altar, she embraced " devoutly and 
reverently " all the Sisters, beseeching them to pray 
God for her. After this, they all went out singing the 
Psalm Lord^ have mercy upon us {Deus misereatur 
nostri)^ and prostrated themselves before the Altar. 
She arose Sister Louise de la Misericorde. 



^ Fromenti^res' sermon has been thoroughly studied in the work by 
the Abbe La 'Hakgo'U, Jean- Louis de Fromentieres , King's Preacher, 
p. 314 et seq. (Paris, 1892). The Bishop's family was related to that of 
the La Baume Le Blancs. 

Several authors wax sentimental here over the fair hair falling 
beneath the Prioress's scissors. See P. Clement, Reflexiojis^ Preface 
p. cxx. ; M. I'Abbe DucLos, v, XL p. 532. Louise's hair could not 
have grown since April 20. She could only have had the two front 
curls. The same writers speak of the Princess Palatine's emotion 
when Louise was covered with the pall. That ceremony belongs to 
the Profession, not to the taking of the veil. 



33^ Louise de La Valli^re 

Does any one desire to know the effect of M. de 
Fromentieres' daring sermon upon those whom he most 
wished to impress ? 

Some days after it had been preached, Marie-Ther^se 
and La Grande Mademoiselle, who had lingered a 
little, rejoined the King at Auxerre. All the news 
was discussed, and incidentally the Duchesse de La 
Valliere was spoken of as having taken the veil in a 
most edifying manner. Then Louis, adroitly evading 
the Queen's invitation to dinner, went off to his 
mistress. Very anxiously Marie-Therese said, " What ! 
is he going back again without seeing me } " He came, 
however, about seven in the evening, stayed a moment, 
and then fled. . . 'Twas thus that Louise de La Valliere's 
example worked upon the King and Mme de Montespan. 



Whatever the wits at Court might say and write, 
Louise, ever since her instalment at the Carmelites, had 
followed Saint Bernard's advice : " If you give your- 
self to God at all, give yourself wholly." She aban- 
doned herself without reserve, and God accordingly 
made the greatest austerities of the religious life easy 
to her. The road was smoothing itself before her. 
She was of noble blood — and it stood her in good stead 
now ; all her native simphcity and endurance re-awoke 
in her. She undertook, she asked for, the most menial 
tasks. She would sweep, wash the sacristy, hang out 
the washing in the barns on the coldest winter days, 
persuaded " that nothing was too humble for her to 
do." One day, when Marie-Therese was honouring 
the House in the Rue Saint-Jacques with a visit, it 
happened (according to a tradition of the CarmeHte 
nuns) that Sister Louise de la Misericorde was occu- 
pied in the lowly labours of the laundry, and that the 
Queen saw her pass, quite unafFectedlv, with a basket 



Louise de La Valli^re 337 

on her back.^ These strenuous tasks produced a single 
reflection from Louise : " One can hardly pray to 
God at all ! " But, in reality, she only prayed the 
better. So great was her impulse to humiliate herself 
that she asked to be allowed to make her profession as 
a mere lay-sister ; but Mother Agnes de J6s us- Maria, 
with her great common-sense, forbade this excess of 
humility. 

During the year of her novitiate, Louise wrote often 
to Bellefonds, who was in disgrace again. She always 
looked upon him as the " guide who had led her back 
to the Saviour's arms." " The Court has been near us 
again," she told him in July, 1674, " and I thank God 
I have left it for ever. I hear talk of endless pleasures, 
and the only ones that signify to me are those which I 
can enjoy in the Lord's House, and at the foot of His 
Altars. When I do not suffer pain, I am calm ; and 
when I do, I am ravishingly happy. . . You know 
that I used to be very different. No one knows better 
than you, for I have had no secrets from you, this 
many and many a year." Sometimes she had visitors — 
unexpected ones. Once, before going to the parlour, 
*' I am going before the Lord," she wrote to her 
friend, " to beg Him to keep me safe ; and when I 
return, I shall thank Him for having drawn me out of 
the circle of those who offend Him and placed me 
amongst those who think of His service alone." Not 
that she was growing narrow, not that she was asking 
from the cloister merely a refuge from the emotions 
and the duties of life. " I wish, with all my heart, that 
all those persons would come, for their own well-being, 
into this Holy House — but the hour is not yet come. 
I pray God every moment to show them the grace He 
has shown me, and there is no penance I would not 

1 Abbe DucLOS, Madame de La Valliere, etc., II. p. 596, 2nd edition. 
According to the tradition, Louise was still a novice at the time. 

22 



33^ Louise de La Valliere 

willingly undertake, if He would permit me, for the 
accomplishment of this end." 

But if certain visits troubled the nun's mind, others 
fortified it. Gaston's former Almoner, the worldly 
Abbe whom Louise had seen at Blois — M. de Ranee — 
had entered upon the narrow path of repentance at the 
same moment as herself ; and now, after a separation 
of sixteen years, they met again in the parlour of the 
Carmelite Convent, where Ranee, on his rare absences 
from La Trappe, loved to spend an hour or two. 
Louise was, as it were, one of his novices. She was 
very grateful for his teaching, and told Bellefonds of 
the joy it gave her, in a letter which is full of exquisite 
passages. 

According to the Rule, the novitiate lasted a year. 
Louise had taken the veil on June 2, 1674. On 
June 3, 1675, ^^^ made the further vows. Her own 
impatience was the reason why not a day was lost. 
There was no further resentment or difficulty of any 
kind with regard to the reception of the King's 
mistress at the Carmelite House. Times were changed. 
Perhaps it has not until now been clearly realised 
amid what a general sense of spiritual renovation and 
looking-forward that memorable profession of hers 
was accomplished. 



Almost simultaneously — that is to say in the June 
and July of 1674 — Louise had chosen, and the 
Marquis de Montespan had been compelled by the 
law, to leave the King and haughty Athenais in a state 
of complete independence. The first impression of 
the lovers was, as always, very agreeable ; and, as 
always, entire liberty had its inevitable effect upon 
passion — and that soon. 

La Valliere's ex-friend, who knew by personal 



Louise de La Valli^re 339 

experience how a favourite may be supplanted and had 
now lost the interesting spectacle of her victim's 
sufferings, took it into her head to think that 
her present ally, Mme Scarron, was inclined to be 
intrusive. She was too proud to treat a mere suivante 
as a rival, yet too observant not to be alarmed ; and 
so she began the Ladies' Battle by showing caprice 
and " temper." So long as only Louise had suffered 
from this kind of thing, Mme Scarron had thought it 
quite natural. Now that herself was the victim, she 
found it intolerable. Hence furtive protestations, 
which only ambition sufficed to stifle in any degree. 
And, finally, the common master decided to give his 
children's governess the money necessary for the pur- 
chase of an estate, and a lordly title therewith. The 
poet's widow was turned into Mme de Maintenon ! 
She felt herself capable — so she said with her own 
lips — " of the greatest complaisance where the King 
was concerned." 

We must remember that Louis XIV. wanted from 
his mistresses the distractions, not the occupations, of 
his life. He had many serious matters to think of. 
Drawn further and further into wide-reaching military 
schemes, attacked by a coalition, abandoned by his 
allies, and obliged, for the first time in his experi- 
ence, to beat a retreat — he was feeling profoundly 
humiliated. . . And just then something happened, 
which every one knows of as an actual occurrence, but 
of which very few understand the cause — something 
which excited the admiration of some, the scepticism of 
others, the stupefaction of all. 

During the Holy Week of 1675 — from April 8 
to 14 — there was a blazing public rupture between 
the King and Mme de Montespan. The lady retired 
first to Paris, then to Maintenon. For a whole 
month, from April 14 to May 11, Louis scarcely saw 



340 Louise de La Valli^re 

any one but Bossuet, who would go, in the evenings, 
disguised in a grey cloak, to see the favourite. She 
was first annoyed, then exasperated, then — resigned. 
The general opinion seemed to resolve itself into a 
belief that the King and his mistress were more in 
love than ever, but that reason and duty had led 
them at last to submit to the laws of man and of God. 
There is no doubt that Louise, whom Bossuet also 
visited, heard of this marvellous conversion. One 
of her letters contains a supreme invocation for " a 
much-loved object." " In obedience to your wish, 

I have spoken to N in tolerably forcible terms. . . 

How happy I should be if, through all my bodily and 
spiritual sufferings, I could win the conversion of some 
soul ! I ask it ardently of God, and I will confess 
to you that I can never think of it without rapture. 
I understand now that passage in the Great Apostle's 
writings which I used to find so incomprehensible, 
where he asks to be anathema for the sake of his 
brothers. Yes, my God, I implore it of you with 
my whole heart. . . Let us pray pitifully for those 
whom we have so deeply loved." ^ 

Now, who could be so dear to Louise that she 
should offer herself to be anathema for the sake of 
that other's salvation } Whom but the King could she 
and Bellefonds both have loved } The sweet woman 
longed to see the blessed balm of mercy showered 
on those who were still outside the asylum which 
she had found. And indeed everything seemed to 
point to the Royal sinner's sincerity, and to a lasting 
resolution to lead a regular life. On the day of 
Pentecost, the King, at the Camp of Latines,^ and Mme 
de Montespan, at Versailles, publicly communicated. 

On the following Tuesday, there was another crowded 

^ Letter XXI. N. must mean Mme de Montespan. 

^ On June 2, the King heard Mass and made " his devotions," 



Louise dc La Valliere 341 

congregation at the little church of the Carmelite nuns. 
Monsieur was seen there, and Madame and Mademoiselle 
(the daughter of Henri ette d' Orleans) ; La Grande 
Mademoiselle, too, and Mme de Guise, the Duchesse 
de Longueville, Mme de Scudery — the whole Court, 
in fact. The Queen had taken her place in the nuns' 
gallery, and beside her was Louise de la Misericorde, 
who had made her final vows the night before. To- 
day's ceremony was that of giving her the black veil 
of the professed nuns. The service began. Mass 
was said by the Superior of the Carmelites, Abbe Pirot. 
Then Bossuet went into the pulpit. His first words 
arrested attention : 

Et dixit qui sedebat in throno : Ecce nova facio omnia 
{A'poc.^ xxi. 5). " And He that sat upon the throne 
said : Behold, I make all things new." The orator 
had been thinking only of La Valliere when he chose 
that text. *' God," he said to Mother Agnes, " has 
done wonderful things with that heart ; truly, all is 
new, and I am more than ever persuaded of the 
application of my text." -^ The amazing conversion 
of the King and of Mme de Montespan had sud- 
denly extended that application ; and thus, glorying 
in the power to speak, he addressed to the Queen, 
glorying to listen, that magnificent exordium in 
which he celebrates the wonderful, widening reno- 
vation. 

" Madame, it will be indeed a glorious sight when 
He who is seated upon the throne. He who need 
but speak and all is done according to His Will, shall 

Gazette, 1675, No. 57, p, 408. This expression is not very clear. Cf. 
Gazette, 1675, No. 39, p. 284, where the King's " devotions " at Easter 
are mentioned. But Pellisson's Lettres historiques leave no room 
for doubt. On June 2, the King communicated. 

^ Letter from Bossuet to Mother Agnes de Bellefonds, March 19, 1675, 
CEuvres, v. XI. p. 26, The original of this letter belongs to the 
Convent of the Carmelite nuns in the Rue d'Enfer. 



342 Louise de La Valli^re 

pronounce from that Great Throne of all the ages 
that He maketh all things new — and behold ! a new 
world shall spring up for His Elect ! But when, to 
prepare us for these great renovations, He works secretly 
in human hearts through the agency of His Holy 
Spirit — ^when He changes them, renews them, stirs 
them to their depths, and thus inspires them with 
hitherto unknown impulses ... is such a change less 
striking, or less wonderful ? Oh, Christian souls, 
what is there more marvellous than changes such as 
these ! What have we seen ^ and what do we now 
see } What a state — and yet again, what a state ! 
I need not speak of it ; the thing speaks for itself" ^ 
And he added : *' We must all wonder at these great 
God-given changes. Nothing is the same as before ; 
all is changed that we can see, and what we cannot 
see is newer still — and /, to celebrate these holy new 
things, break a silence of many years, I speak in the 
pulpit which long has ceased to know my voice." ^ 
Then, indicating plainly that his discourse was meant 
for absent ears as well : " My sister, from among 
the things I have to say to you, you will know how 
to choose those which are wholly your own. And 
you, ye other Christian souls — choose also ! " 

Continuing, he described the wanderings of a soul 
forgetful of its Creator, and wholly self-absorbed. He 
showed that soul led astray by beauty, " captivated by 
a flower which the sun can wither, by a vapour which 
the breeze can dissipate "^ — " the slave of pleasure, 
of the senses, of worldly joys, and possessed by that 

1 " Deforis published this discourse from the original notes, and 
as there is not one single variation, the ' notes ' were evidently very 
full " (Gazier, Ckoix de sermons, p. 475). The Abbe Le Barcq speaks 
of a manuscript in the Floquet collection (p. 264), but it appears to 
present no points of novelty. 

^ " Of many years." Must we not read : " of three years " ? Bossuet 
had preached in June, 1672. 



Louise de La Valli^rc 343 

dark and sinister passion, avarice — as cruel as it is 
insatiable." 

Then, passing from these passions to the analysis 
of nobler, more generous ambitions : " Ah, behold," 
he cried, '* all that glory can do for the soul ! There 
is nothing so glittering as glory, nothing so acclaimed 
by our fellow-men, yet what else is so miserable and 
so paltry ? If we would know this, let us consider its 
most magnificent manifestation — that of conquerors ; 
let us choose the most illustrious of them all — 
Alexander ! Alexander shall prove to us the poverty 
of victorious Kings. What did he long for, what did 
he suffer so cruelly — and make others suffer so cruelly — 
to attain ? His desire was to make a noise in the 
world, during his life and after his death. And he had 
all that he desired. No man ever did what he did : 
in Egypt, Persia, India, all over the world, in the East 
and in the West. For more than two thousand years 
Alexander's name has been supreme. He lives on all 
men's lips ; through the ages his glory has endured, 
without effacement or diminution. Praise he has not 
wanted — but how much else he wanted ! He had his 
desire — was he happy ? He was tormented by ambition 
during his hfe, and now he is tormented in hell, where 
he works out the eternal punishment inflicted on one 
who makes himself a God, who wishes to be wor- 
shipped as a God — what boots it whether it be through 
pride, or through policy ? And thus it is with all his 
kind. Those who desire glory, often are given their 
heart's desire. ' They have had their reward,' said the 
Son of God, * they are paid according to their deserts.' 
' Those great men,' said Saint Augustine, ' so famous 
among the Gentiles and, I will add, too much esteemed 
among us Christians, have had what they wanted. 
Perceperunt mercedem suam vani, vanam.' " 

The echo of these words must have reached the 



344 Louise de La Valli^re 

Royal Camp. Moreover, what Bossuet preached with 
the burning eloquence of inspiration, he had said in 
simple, but not less forcible and touching words, to 
Louis some days before. " The world talks inces- 
santly of the magnificnce of your troops and of all 
they can accomplish under such a leader ; while I, Sire, 
ponder secretly upon a much more difficult victory. 
Meditate, Sire, on this word spoken by the Son of 
God — it seems to have been spoken for great Kings 
and Conquerors. ' What shall it profit a man if he 
gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? and what 
shall a man take in exchange for his soul ? ' How 
will it help you. Sire, to be apparently victorious, if 
in reality you are vanquished and in bondage ? Pray to 
God that He may set you free. I pray for it inces- 
santly, with my whole heart." ^ 

Thus the great Bishop, when he spoke daringly in 
public, felt all the more confidence because his private 
speech had been no less frank. Yet the ladies — even 
those who, like Mme de Sevigne, did not hear it — 
thought his sermon less inspired than might have been 
expected. They maintained that he had been taken 
in by mere play-acting from the King and Mme de 
Montespan. If the desire for better things be an 
illusion, then Bossuet was under an illusion. But who 
knew better than he the fragility and inconsequence of 
human resolutions ^ That very day of Louise de La 
Valliere's profession, he spoke to his present and his 
absent hearers, and said : "I preach to you the most 
momentous truths of religion : what good will it do .? 

1 Letter from Bossuet to the King, (Euvres, v. XL p. 29. P. 
Clement, Mada?ne de Montespan, p. 229, dates it July, 1675. The 
letter is certainly of May, 1675, because it was written several days 
before Pentecost, which fell on June 2 that year, and could not in 
any case fall in July. The later editors of Bossuet have not made 
this mistake, but they have erroneously numbered this letter XLV., 
following XLIV., which is dated June 20, 1675. 



Louise de La Valli^re 345 

Oh, God ! what is man ? Is he a marvel ? is he a 
monstrous mixture of incompatibilities ? or is he an 
insoluble enigma ? . . . " What great lady — even though 
she were a Montespan ! — could deceive that vivisectionist 
of the human heart ? " You will find in your heart 
a secret pride which makes you disdain all that is said 
to you, and all wise counsellings ; you will find a 
spirit of frivolous mockery, born in the gay moments 
of worldly intercourse. Whoever is possessed by it, 
looks upon life as a mere pastime — wishes only to be 
amused, and sees the face of reason, if I may so express 
myself, as a dull, gloomy, unattractive thing." 

Madame de La Valliere, or rather Sister Louise de la 
Misericorde, is little prominent in this sermon, where 
one would have looked to find her eulogy. She was 
none the less present to the preacher's mind, and the 
praise, though indirect, was perhaps all the more 
deUcate : " My sister," he had said, *' you will know 
how to choose what is your own " ; and, in effect, 
despite her humility, the nun must have recognised 
herself in that picture of the soul to " whom God 
speaks, when He wishes, through all the tumult of the 
world, through all its splendour, all its pomp." First 
of all, such a soul rejects the world's riches — smallest 
of all sacrifices to a generous nature like that of 
Louise. Then, more reluctantly, the beloved jewels are 
resigned. " But will she dare to attack her tender, 
cherished body ^ Will she not spare her delicate com- 
plexion ? On the contrary, the soul is but the more 
ardent to attack such dangerous tempters. She gives 
her body distasteful food, and, that nature be the more 
easily subdued, she waits to eat until the pangs of real 
hunger assail her. That tender body lies on the 
bare floor." Finally, the soul, " led astray by liberty 
ill-used, is urged to control itself — and lo ! everywhere, 
the terrible iron bars, the profound isolation, the im- 



34^ Louise de La Valli^re 

penetrable seclusion, utter obedience — every action 
regulated, every step counted ! " '* My Mother," the 
Duchesse de La Valli^re had already said, " I have 
made a bad use of my will all my life, but now I am 
going to resign it into your hands for ever." 

The whole admirable sermon ought to be transcribed. 
There is not one phrase of mere rhetoric ; every word 
is full of significance. Amazing ! that the only 
authentic accounts we have of its effect, far from 
expressing enthusiasm, express disappointment.^ Such 
judgments injure only those who utter them. The 
peroration alone leaves something to be desired. But 
what did so fine a discourse want with a peroration .? 
Bossuet had spoken deep truths ; Louise showed the 
appHcation of them. 

But, whatever may have been said, the assembly was 
still under the spell of that great orator, when the 
penitent woman came down from the Nuns' Gallery, 
" She did that — the beautiful, brave creature ! — as 
nobly and charmingly as she had done everything, all 
her life through." It is Mme de S6vign6, restored to 
her real and better self, who writes those words. 
People thought that a year of austere, cloistered life 
would have altered her looks ; but, on the contrary, 
her beauty, now seen for the last time, surprised the 
whole Court. The black veil, blessed by the Bishop, 
presented by Queen Marie-Th<^r^se, and placed on 
her head by the Prioress, covered the sweet face for 
ever.^ At this moment in the ceremony, the Mother- 

1 Bayle, Letter of June 24, 1675. " He merely spoilt the ideas which 
the Bishop of Aire had expressed the year before," Utterly inaccurate, 
this. We must remember that Bayle was a Protestant, and that 
Bossuet had written the Exposition de la doctrine catholique. See 
Floquet, Bossuet, preccpteur du dauphin, p. 481. 

2 The Abb6 Le Queux, and many others before and after him, have 
said that La Vallilre received the veil from the Queen's hands. 
M. Floquet refutes the error. Shortly before 1675, the Gazette de 




After a painting in tlie collection of Comet ITsdoiiliLird. 

SISTER LOUISE DE LA MISERICORDK. 



Louise de La Valliere 347 

Prioress takes the new-made nun by the hand. She 
leads her to a sort of little garden, marked out in the 
centre of the Nuns' Choir. There, among flowers 
which seem to grow around the edge of a tomb, 
she lies down on the ground, her arms spread out 
like a cross upon the carpeting of coarse serge. At 
this symbol of dissolution, the assembled multitude 
shuddered ; many could not restrain their tears. ^ 
Then she who was dead to the world, arose — alive in 
God. 

France had announced a veil-giving by a Princess. This was corrected 
in the following number. Finally, the Gazette said definitely that the 
veil •w^as given by the Archbishop (see Gazette, 1675, P- 408). 

^ Correspondance complete de la Princesse PaldtiJie, v. II, p. 119. 
The Manuel (p. 178) thus terminates the formulary for taking the 
veil : " If the father or mother of the novice is in the church, the 
Prioress shall lead her to the railing to receive their blessing." The 
Gazette de France (year 1675, P- 4°8), does not say that Mme de 
Saint-Remi was present. 



CHAPTER II 

1675 — 1685 

SISTER LOUISE passed the first days of her 
profession in devout meditation. When she was 
allowed to resume her relations with the world, 
she wrote a touching letter to her friend the Marechal 
de Bellefonds : " It is now that I can truly say I belong 
to God for ever. I am attached by bonds so strong that 
nothing can break them, bound by my vows, and still 
more by the grace which has made me take them. 
My only remaining desire is to lose the memory of 
all which is not God. Through His goodness, my 
heart is detached and my will aims only at pleasing 
Him ; but wearisome memories, from which I long 
to be fully freed, distract me in spite of myself 
They alone remain to be destroyed." Alas ! one does 
not forget at one's pleasure. Louise knew only too 
well by experience this obsession by " a haunting idea. 
Thinking that one must forget — one remembers." 
But she accepted the irksome revocations by way 
of penance. " It is the hardest we can do. To love 
God ardently and forget all the rest — ah ! Monsieur 
le Marechal, it would be too pleasant. I must bear 
the penalty of my sins." 

To deaden remembrance, she wearied out her body, 
fasted on bread and water, wore a hair-shirt and iron 
belts, while iron bracelets replaced gold rings and 
jewelled ornaments. 

348 



Louise de La Valli^re 349 

Mother Agnes, whilst admiring this zeal, moderated 
it for fear of its loss through sheer ardour. Sensible 
and prudent as she was, she had not allowed the 
Duchess to become a simple lay-sister ; but she now 
permitted Sister Louise to help the white-veiled sisters 
in the most laborious housework.^ Laundry-work, 
sweeping, washing-up, not for a day only, not for a week 
— but until the good pleasure of the Prioress should 
relieve them from duty. In these occupations and in 
this fatigue our penitent found the surest remedy for 
the much-dreaded evil of unwilling revocation of the 
past. By degrees calm was restored to her mind, and 
with calm, gaiety — that " gay temper " which " seems 
essential to the making of a perfect Carmelite." ^ Soon 
she spoke only of " tramping gaily to the Heavenly 
Country." A year after her vows, she wrote to her 
friend : '' I am so absolutely tranquil about all that 
may happen that I look upon health, illness, rest, 
work, joy, and trouble, in the same light. I close 
my eyes and let obedience guide me." 

Moreover, she preserved in the cloister her pleasant 
humour, a distinctive feature of her temper in the 
world. Bellefonds, having sold his office at Court, 
entrusted to her the management of a business interest. 
She replied that she would try to give him satisfaction. 
*' But," added she, '^ I shall have the help of some 
prudent and adroit Carmelite ; for you and I do not 
make a sensible couple. Forgive me for thus com- 
paring you to a person whose reputation is as bad 
in this as in other things." 

^ Circular letter, pp. 172-174. See in chap. vii. of St. Teresa's 
Histoire des fondations what she says of melancholy types : " The 
most sovereign remedy is to employ them in domestic duties, so that 
the imagination has no time to work" {CEuvres de sainte Therese, v. II. 
p. 608. Paris, 1667). 

2 MSS. des Dames Carmelites, Fondations, p. 243. The phrase 
comes from Mere Anne de J^sus. 



350 Louise de La Valli^re 

Her ready wit never deserted her. Towards 
April, 1676, the Queen, good-hearted to the point 
of bhndness, twice brought Mme de Montespan to 
see her. Beheving that the Marquise was now simply 
the King's friend, Marie-Therese hoped that the sight 
of Sister Louise's penitence would end by converting 
this other sinner. But Qjianto (as the favourite was 
called) was hardly inside the Convent before, unalter- 
ably fantastic, she took it into her head to organise 
a raffle. It was great fun for the community. At 
the same time she had the impertinence to subject her 
former victim to a kind of cross-examination : '* When 
all was said and done, was she as happy as they said 
she was } " ^' No," replied Louise, " I am not happy, 
but I am contented." Disconcerted, the Montespan 
stupidly asked if she did not want a word said for her 
to the King. "Anything you like to say, Madame, 
anything you like ! " " Put into that," says a con- 
temporary woman-writer, " all the grace, wit, and 
modesty imaginable." Our Marquise, feeling herself 
defeated, rushed to the kitchen and concocted a sauce 
said to have cost four pistoles. Moreover, she con- 
sumed it with "wonderful appetite." If Sister Louise 
did not feel, on that day, a profound conviction of her 
superiority to her ex-rival, it was because the woman 
was quite dead within her. 



Each day hastened the quick reversal of mundane 
things : 'twas like that admonition already given to the 
Duchess before she had thought of quitting the world. 
She had seen Mme Henriette, the Comte de Guiche, 
Mme de Montausier, die ; she had seen Marie Mancini 
and her sister Hortense reduced to the position of ad- 
venturesses. . . Before her defiled the further procession. 
Marguerite d'Orleans, that friend of her childhood, 



Louise de La Valliere 351 

whose romantic notions had so fired her youthful 
imagination — Marguerite, escaping from a husband 
who was glad to get rid of her, came to pay Louise 
a visit which lasted some hours, and (amazing !) 
she too was in a convent now ; she was at Mont- 
martre. There, in a sort of captivity, she was housed ; 
and when she did have an " outing," her sister. La 
Grande Mademoiselle, hard, cross-grained creature ! 
accompanied her — or rather, spied on her. To reach 
the Carmelites, the Princess had had to pass the 
Luxembourg, and see once more the quarters where, 
sixteen years before, she, her sisters, the little La 
Valliere, and the much-mourned " Cousin Charles," 
had danced together. What memories and disillusions ! 
When the wretched Marguerite returned to Montmartre 
in the evening, Sister Louise went back to her cell, 
whose calm was becoming dearer and dearer to 
her. 

Even inside the cloister, her eyes were always cast 
down. As she was subject to bad headaches, she was 
asked if this attitude was not a discomfort. " Not 
at all," replied she with her usual gentleness ; " it 
rests my eyes. 1 am so weary of earthly things that 
it is actually a pleasure to look at them no longer." 
This statement need not astonish us. One of her 
sisters in religion, Anne-Marie de Jesus — a penitent, 
not for faults of her own, but for those of a world 
she had scarcely seen at all — was given a cell one 
day which overlooked the garden. She found herself 
unwittingly enjoying the view and the air, and, to 
punish herself for the pleasure, for four years her 
window was, as it were, walled for her. 

This continual sacrifice of the senses amazes us, but 
it is nothing compared to another which Sister Louise 
was resolved to impose on herself. It is related that 
the Abbe de Ranee exacted from his novices a great 



352 Louise de La Valliere 

detachment from their relatives, to the point of never 
asking for them, of losing, if possible, all memory of 
their own origin. But what child loves its parents as 
its parents love it ? Did the severe reformer of La 
Trappe ever dream of a mother refusing to embrace 
her children ? Nevertheless, that was seen at the 
Carmelites. 

About a year or two after Louise de La Valliere had 
entered the Convent, the Princess Palatine, Duchesse 
d'Orleans, came to pay her a visit, leading by the hand 
the little Comte de Vermandois, in order that he might 
have the joy of embracing his mother. The child 
was seven or eight at most, and before such innocence 
all gratings were lowered. But the nun's spirit of 
renunciation, more inflexible than the grating, refused 
such solace. Neither the entreaties of the Princess 
nor the child's grief could conquer her resolution. The 
Princess Palatine, self-controlled as she was, was 
touched even to tears. 

A little later, there was another trial. Marie-Ther^se, 
wishing that the Marquis de La Valliere should see 
his sister otherwise than through the parlour-grating, 
led him in by the hand — a Royal favour which authorised 
entrance to the interior of the Convent, Sister Louise, 
informed of this design, crushed down her feelings of 
tenderness and ran to the cloister-door. She pointed 
out that hitherto those Queens who had honoured the 
Carmelites with a visit had done them the favour of 
never introducing a man ; and her representations 
were so respectfully enforced that the Queen yielded to 
them. Louise saw her brother only in the parlour. She 
was never to see him again. Though still young, hardly 
thirty-four, the Marquis was already attacked by a 
grave malady. At the beginning of October, 1676, 
the doctors made him undergo several operations, as 
painful as they were unavailing. He died in Paris on 



Louise de La Valli^re 353 

the 13th of the same month. -^ At this sad news, 
Louise lifted up her heart to God. " My brother," 
she wrote to Bellefonds, " died very suddenly, and at 
an age when, according to appearances, one may expect 
to live long. What shall I say to you of the goodness 
of the Lord ^ He has exacted this sacrifice of me, con- 
sidering as nothing what I offered Him, and it really is 
nothing — feeling as I do, through the mercy of the 
Almighty, ready to sacrifice with my own hand all that is 
most dear to me in the world, if it be His Holy Will." 
At the same time. Sister Louise saw one of her 
sisters in religion die — one who had been almost a com- 
panion, for she had known her in the household of 
the late Madame. There was an astonishing change 
in her point of view : for death, formerly so terrible 
in her eyes, she now ardently desired. " How happy 
she is ! " Louise breathed, as she watched by the dying 
woman's side. But later, when she was more advanced 
in the path of submission, she was on her guard against 
this yearning, and was ready to accept life as a long, 
unbroken penance. 

Louise felt profoundly the ties of kinship. Her 
brother had been no better manager of his affairs than 
she had been of her own. She had given up to him 
her share in the paternal inheritance — but the whole 
of that was but a trifle. The young Marquis had had 
considerable bounties from the King in 1664-5, but 
Louis had taken them nearly all back as soon as they 
were given — under the pretext of enhancing their value.^ 

^ The circular letter says : " Some years after her profession 
[Louise's] her brother." This is an obvious error, which has been 
repeated by Le Queux. It proves how closely one should examine 
even the most conscientious documents. 

2 "I have resumed the business of the townships for your greater 
advantage. The cost would have eaten you up, and I wish you to gain 
more from it than it would be worth, if it remained in your hands " 
(The King to the Marquis de La Valliere, April i, 1664. CEuvres de 
Louis XIV., V. V. p. 376). 

23 



354 Louise de La Valli^re 

Upon the whole, he owed only his marriage to his 
sister's influence with the King. On his death, it 
was found that he had left nothing, less than nothing 
— debts ! Sister Louise found herself faced again by 
creditors — those creditors whose varying claims had 
tormented her all her life. She wrote to the King, 
begging of him to preserve the Governorship of the 
Bourbonnais to her nephew, so as to enable him to 
fulfil pledges given by his father. Louis received her 
request favourably, he even added some amiable ex- 
pressions to the grant : " If he were a good enough 
man to see so saintly a Carmelite, he would go and 
tell her himself of his sympathy in her loss." With 
delicate reticence, Louise had spoken only of the 
creditors' interests, not even mentioning her nephews'. 
The liquidation of the Marquis' fortune barely yielded 
some hundreds of ecus each to the children. 

To these incidents succeeded two years of contempla- 
tion and complete silence. All we know is that towards 
1679, Louise was ill in her turn. The following year, 
worldly matters once more invaded her seclusion. In the 
early days. Sister Louise de la Misericorde had resolved 
never again to see her son or daughter. Let not hasty 
judges rush to pronounce sentence ! Our recluse yielded 
to no selfish sentiment ; humility alone inspired her. 
The King was openly opposed to that austere resolve. 
He knew how much need her children had of the 
advice, which, given by the living voice of such a 
mother, would seem to come straight from Heaven. 
Moreover, among the Carmelites it is considered a duty 
to keep up family-relations when it is a question not 
of pleasure, but of usefulness to one's own people. 



Opportunities were not wanting. The little Princess, 
after a brilliant appearance at Court in 1674, had 



Louise dc La Valli^re 355 

returned to the guardianship of Mme Colbert. An 
odd education was hers, in its mingling of gorgeousness 
and severity. For the child to leave off wearing a 
pinafore at ten, it was necessary to have a special order 
from the King ! ^ At the same time, without being 
exactly made into a Household, the service of Marie- 
Anne and her brother was organised on a grand 
scale. Ten thousand livres were granted as the young 
lady's dress-allowance, and she managed to spend 
twelve thousand five hundred ! Louis loved this 
daughter as much as his nature permitted him to love 
any one. 

Marie-Anne figured early in political calculations. 
In October, 1674, she was offered to the Prince of 
Orange, who turned a deaf ear to the overtures. 
Later on, the Duke of Savoy was spoken of. Finally 
another project was put forward — and, this time, suc- 
cessfully. 

In 1680, the House of Conde had been back in 
favour, and even in credit, for the last twenty years. 
Yet, despite the protestations of fidelity on the one 
hand and of friendship on the other, it was felt that 
all mistrust had not vanished ; and, desirous to give 
the King a signal mark of their devotion, the Condes 
asked for young Marie-Anne's hand for the Prince de 
Conti. Louis, whose vanity was flattered, behaved 
generously. He settled a fortune of a million livres 
and an income of a hundred thousand on his daughter, 
in addition to the jewellery and gems which she had 
from her mother. The Queen, the Dauphin, Mon- 
sieur, Madame, La Grande Mademoiselle, the Princes 
and Princesses, legitimate and legitimated, signed the 

' " My daughter of Blois has asked permission to leave off wearing 
her pinafore. I consent, if Mme Colbert approves " (In camp before 
Cambray, April 8, 1677. Leiires, mimoireSy instructions de Colbert, v. VI. 
P- 338). 



35^ Louise de La Valli^re 

contract. The mother was styled " the very high 
and mighty Lady, Louise-Fran^oise, Duchesse de La 
Valliere . . . now a professed nun in the Carmelite 
Convent, in the Faubourg St. Jacques." This mention, 
incidental as it was, allowed the fiancee to present her 
future husband to her mother ; and the youthful 
Conti, son of a man whose Hfe had edified the 
Court, showed great deference to Sister Louise de la 
Misericorde. In renouncing the world, the penitent 
had reconquered what the world gives only to the 
meritorious : its esteem and its respect. The Prince 
and the Duke hastened to the Carmelites. With 
the perfect tact of their race, they did not omit a visit 
to Mme de Saint-Remi, to her daughter Mme 
d'Entragues, step-sister of Louise, and even to an 
obscure aged aunt who lived in a suburb.^ A month 
later, Mme de S^vigne had an opportunity of seeing 
Sister Louise. 

*' What an angel appeared at last ! for the Prince 
de Conti kept her in the parlour. For me she had 
all her old charm. I thought her neither bloated nor 
sallow ; she is not so thin, and she looks happier ; her 
eyes and her looks are the same ; austerity, poor food, 
and little sleep have neither lined nor deadened them. 
The strange habit takes nothing from her grace ; her 
modesty is no greater than when she gave a Princesse 
de Conti to the world, yet it is sufficient for a 
Carmelite. All that she says is so in keeping with 
her person, that I think nothing could be better. 
M. de Conti loves and honours her tenderly ; she is, 
as it were, his director ; he is devout, and will be like 
his father. Truly she has put on great dignity with 
her nun's habit." 

' Mme DE Sevigne, Lettres. I had wrongly supposed this aunt to be 
Marie de La Valliere, godmother to Louise, and widow (after a second 
marriage) of Erard du Chastelet. It was in reality her mother's sister. 



Louise de La Valli^re 357 

Though actually poor, and now still poorer through 
her vows, Louise did not neglect to offer a wedding- 
present. A lady of great virtue (supposed to be the 
Queen) had filched from her, as it were, the manuscript 
of Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu, for the lady 
in question did not wish the public and the faithful 
to be deprived of so many edifying thoughts. She 
promised that Sister Louise's name should not be 
mentioned ; but the Preface was so full of allusions 
that the veil of anonymity was quite torn away. The 
modest publication made a great sensation. The 
principal passages of these Reflexions have been noticed 
already, and must charm all by their touching sim- 
plicity ; the Preface, on the contrary, was remarkable 
for its extraordinary assurance. It spoke of the author, 
a lady long-sought-out by God's mercy, " in the 
corruption of the century, to make of her a miracle 
of repentance. May heaven grant that those follow- 
ing her in her sin may imitate her also in her penance, and 
make good use of the time granted by God's mercy to 
reflect seriously on their salvation." Finally, in order 
that there should be no mistake as to the source 
of the warning, it finished with this quotation : 
Inspice et fac secundum exemplar^ quod tibi in Monte 
monstratum est (" Watch and follow the example 
given thee on the Mountain "). In chapter xxv. of 
Exodus, from which this passage is taken. Mount 
Sinai is alluded to ; but it needs no great effort to 
apply it to Mount Carmel, and this Convent of 
Carmelites, situated on Mount Sainte-Genevi^ve. 

The illusions formed on certain conversions in 1675 
had long been dissipated. Mme de Montespan had 
not only come back to Court, maitresse-en-titre^ but she 
had had to bear with the presence of additional and 
" occasional " favourites, such as the du Lude and the 
Fontanges. Louis, arbiter of Europe, lived in open 



35^ Louise de La Valli^re 

profligacy, publicly, undisturbed, like an Olympian god 
exempt from laws which were made for mere mortals. 
The warning given in the Preface to the Reflexions 
pointed directly at Louis XIV. But who had been 
daring enough to write it .'' No one knows. . . Mean- 
while, those who heard Bourdaloue preach just then 
must have made curious comparisons. In a sermon 
preached before the Court and King,^ the courageous 
Jesuit took for his subject the conversion of the 
Magdalen, "a miracle, which God in His mysterious 
providence has willed to become public, in order that 
the sinners of the century should have in this example 
. . . a perfect model of penitence. . . " " And now," 
added the orator, " I would say to a worldly soul 
troubled with remorse of conscience, what St. Ambrose 
said to the Emperor Theodosius : Ubi secutus es errantem, 
sequere pcenitentem. That Holy Bishop spoke of David ; 
and I, O dear listener ! I speak of Magdalen, and I 
tell you : If you have had the misfortune to follow 
that sinner in the disorders of her life, comfort your- 
self — for, utter sinner as she was, she has yet found 
grace before God ; but nevertheless tremble, if, having 
followed her in her disorders, you have not the courage 
to follow her in her repentance." 

Let us compare this sermon of Bourdaloue's and 
the preface to the Reflexions of Louise de La Valliere. 
Almost the same thoughts, and the same words ! Un- 
fortunately the exact chronology of the oratorical works 
of this eloquent Jesuit has not yet been established. 
All we know is that he spoke of the illustrious penitent 
a short time after pronouncing the discourse on 
Impurity, by which the Royal ears were offended. 
Not accepting the indirect blame whose echo reached 

1 This sermon for the Thursday of the fifth week (v. I. p. 508) 
contains an allusion to the sermon for the Sunday of the third week, 
preached before the King — a famous sermon, whose, subject was 
Impurity {CEuvres, v. I. p. 352, 6d. 1872). 



Louise de La Valli^re 359 

him : " What I have said is displeasing to the world," 
cried Bourdaloue ..." but what pleases the world is 
not always the best nor the most necessary for the 
world. What displeases it is often the medicine which, 
bitter as it is, will cure it. To be shocked and 
scandalised at such truths is one of the most evident 
signs of needing them. Let us return to our subject." 
And then the preacher spoke of Magdalen with the 
" respect due to that penitent who is even more famous 
for her repentance than for her disorder." 

The RSflexions obtained rapid success. Editions 
followed one another quickly. Belgian piracies, trans- 
lations into foreign tongues — all spread the work. 
In Germany, the name of the Duchesse de La 
Valliere was boldly attached to it. The Journal des 
Savants ^ gave it discreet praise and — most difficult 
of all conquests — Mademoiselle de Montpensier actually 
admitted that the author had "rather a pious style." 

Whilst commonplace minds thus expressed them- 
selves about her, the penitent submitted uncomplainingly 
to ever bitter and more bitter trials. Her son, the 
Comte de Vermandois, was well-built and nice-looking. 
His slightly wavering eyes expressed great sweetness.^ 
Intelligent and amiable, endowed with all his mother's 
charm, seductive like her, like her also he was easily 
captivated. He altered greatly on the death of Mme 
Colbert, and fell into the clutches of the Chevalier 
de Lorraine and his brother M. de Marsan, one already 
old, the other still young — and both equally vicious. 

'^Journal des Savatits, July 15, 1680: "If the behaviour of this 
lady had made less noise in the world through her retirement from it, 
perhaps we might have been allowed to make her known." Is not 
this a slip of the learned one's pen ? Must we not read, instead of 
through, before her retirement ? 

^ Besides the portraits done in childhood, which are at Versailles, 
there is an engraving from a portrait painted by Mignard of the Comte 
de Vermandois, about the period now engaging us. This portrait has 
been engraved by Sornique. 



360 Louise de La Valli^rc 

The child, barely thirteen at most, came under the 
influence of these corrupt men — to what degree is not 
certainly known. If we credit Mme de Maintenon, who 
was little given to indulgence, the evil was limited to 
some trifling in the Garden of Diana.^ But enemies, 
such as the Montespan, spoke of " debauchery." Won- 
drous are the sort of women who affect that sort 
of indignation ! . . . A blow given to the Dauphin, 
who was four years the elder, was also spoken of 
Worried by this perfidious gossip, the King, who 
had never cared much for his son, forbade him 
his presence. But he had still his mother. Even 
regarded as youthful peccadilloes, these disorders caused 
Mme de La Valliere " much anxiety." The lad, 
gently reprimanded, made a general confession and 
promised amendment. These are not the actions of a 
bad type of culprit, yet Vermandois was treated as such. 
The Duchesse d'Orleans, good soul, interceded in his 
favour, but the King was inexorable. The poor boy, 
at first imprisoned in Normandy, then exiled to 
Versailles while the Court was at Fontainebleau, lived 
with his tutor, the Abbe Fleury, seeing no one. 
This species of imprisonment only ended on the day 
that the young Admiral asked to be allowed to make 
his first campaign. 

In 1683, Louis XIV., in consequence of futile 
claims put forward at the Conference of Courtrai, was 
determined, as the stronger, to enforce justice himself. 
Forty thousand men, under the command of the 
Marechal d'Humieres, were — less as an operation of 

1 Correspondance generate de Madame de Maintenon, v. II. p. 323. 
The Garden of Diana, here spoken of, is probably that joined to the 
Palace of Fontainebleau, "garden of the Queen and sometimes 'of 
Diana'" (V. Guilbert, Desctiption historique du palais de Fontaine- 
bleau, t. I. p. 21 1. Paris, 1731). The Princess Palatine indirectly gives 
the date of the adventure, which took place before the birth of the Due 
4e Bourgogne, 



Louise de La Valli^re 361 

war than as a military occupation — ordered to the 
Spanish Netherlands. The Comte de Vermandois, 
under the direction of M. de Montchevreuil, was now 
to see in appHcation those maxims which his grand- 
uncle, La ValHere, had bequeathed him in the General 
d'Armee, quite recently reprinted. The young fellow 
was in his element. No sooner was he arrived than he 
went scouting like any m.ere underling. Alert, straight- 
forward, good-natured, all the officers liked him. He 
was very generous and delicate in his favours, and when 
he encountered persons too proud to accept gifts, he 
made wagers and arranged to lose, or else had money 
conveyed to their table without revealing the quarter 
whence it came. In short, his success was so great 
that the King complimented his tutor upon it, and 
authorised all outlays which might be needful to 
carry on the good beginning. But this first paternal 
smile was to be the last. The military operations 
became more serious and arduous. Developed as he 
was, the Admiral was only sixteen. Fever, which even 
old soldiers cannot escape, seized on our young recruit. 
He concealed his illness for three days, fearing to be 
prevented from sharing in the assault on Courtrai. In 
an attack on a suburb, the whole army admired his 
courage. It was, alas ! his supreme effort. In fact, 
the same letter announced to Louis XIV, (too-late en- 
lightened as to his son's merit) both his first exploit and 
his serious illness. The King ordered his return to Lille, 
but it was no longer possible to move him. Delirium 
set in, and during the night of November 17-18, 
he died, mourned by all those who had acclaimed him 
the day before. His body was interred with great 
pomp in the Abbey of Saint- Vaast at Arras. 

After what has just been said, it is hardly necessary 
for us to contradict afresh the authors of a fable 
which w^s wide-spread in the eighteenth century, and 



3^2 Louise de La Valliere 

according to which the Comte de Vermandois (said 
to be dead, but very much alive) was obUged, for 
an offence to the Dauphin, to undergo perpetual 
imprisonment as the famous Man in the Iron Mask.^ 

No one doubted the death of the Prince. According 
to some, the intense regret for Vermandois took on 
the proportions of a public grief. Lauzun, now two 
years out of prison, spoke with enthusiasm of the 
loss sustained by King and State : this child of sixteen 
surpassed the greatest men who had ever existed. 
Such excessive eulogies had for effect the re-awakening 
of the old Mademoiselle's ancient jealousy. She 
said the young Prince died " of drinking too much 
brandy." She was not at all displeased " that M. du 
Maine had no brother ahead of him." It had cost 
her so much to despoil herself of her fortune in 
favour of that other hump-backed, sickly bastard that 
she was now determined to have something for her 
money. She could not contain herself, and made 
public her secret thought, *' After all that had been 
said of Mme de La Valliere, it was not seemly of 
Lauzun thus to praise her son." By these ridiculous 
insinuations one can judge of what was likely to be said 
by a Montespan. Ten years of retirement among the 
Carmelites could not stifle the voice of calumny. 

^ We have found in the accounts of Mme Colbert, preserved in 
the National Archives, mention of journeys taken to visit the prisoner in 
Normandy. But it is evident that here it is only question of a temporary 
punishment, the consequence of some fault — the offence to the Dauphin, 
it may be. Pere Griffet already knew or suspected the fact {Traite 
des differentes preuves qui set vent a etablir laverite dans Phistoire). 
Voltaire, either of his own accord, or echoing his contemporaries, took 
hold of it, and was the first {Memoires pottr sej-vzr dl'histoire de Perse) 
to affirm that La Valliere's son lived under the mask of that vulgar 
prisoner, the valet of Foucquet and of Lauzun, guarded by Saint-Mars. 
Since then, twenty different persons have been substituted for 
Vermandois, and the mask is not yet worn out. Truly it is of iron, 
like credulity and the love of the marvellous ! See Nicolas Foucqtcet, 
V. IL p. 527. I also touched on this question in a lecture given to 
the Society of Norman Antiquarians in 1893. See Bulletin for 1893. 



Louise de La Valli^re 363 

But Sister Louise de la Misericorde had been 
informed of the illness, said to be " trifling," of the 
Comte de Vermandois. Almost immediately followed 
the despatch announcing his death. The Prioress ^ 
was still reflecting on the best way of breaking the 
bad news to the poor mother, when she met her 
coming out of the choir. Startled, she told her that 
she had received news — and then, dared say no 
more. But she looked so sad that Louise asked 
no more. "I quite understand," said she, and 
returning at once, she prostrated herself before the 
Blessed Sacrament. Her prayer ended, she reappeared 
with great serenity. She did not speak of her grief ; 
no one saw her weep. A friend of hers, touched by 
this effort from such a tender nature, told her that 
a few tears would relieve her, and that God did 
not forbid them to a heart resigned. " All must 
be sacrificed," replied the penitent. " It is for myself 
I ought to weep."^ Though Rachel, at Bethlehem, would 
not be consoled, at least her affliction was allowed 
to have its course. Louise repulsed all worldly 
solace ; she even feared that she might wound by 
her maternal plaints the virginal ears of the nuns 

1 L'Mstoire de Mademoiselle de La Valliere, heading the Lettres, 
p. 68, says that the M^re de Bellefonds was then Superior. Now, 
in 1683, the Superior was the Mere Claire du Saint-Sacrament 
(Cousin, La jeunesse de Madame de Longueville, Appendix, list of 
Prioresses, etc., p. 348). 

* Lettre circulaire, P. Clement, Reflexions, v. II. p. 176. We adhere 
to that authentic text. The Journal historigue, Verdun, July, 17 10, 
p. 68, gives this version : " When I have wept enough for his birth, 
I shall think of weeping for his death." The Vie penitente (1712) 
embellished this further; then Voltaire, in Le Siecle de Louis XIV., 
gave it the form of an antithesis : "It is not the death of this son, 
but his birth that I should mourn." That is too •' artistic." The author 
of the Siecle de Louis XIV. had read the Memoires of Mme de 
Caylus, where Louise answers Bossuet : " It is too much to mourn the 
death of a son whose birth I have not yet mourned." Le Queux, in 
the preface to the Lettres, p. 70, mingles all these versions. We do 
not cite modern writers. 



364 Louise de La Valli^re 

who had sheltered her — just as, at the time of this 
same son's birth, she had, for fear of hurting the 
Queen, borne the most intense pain without a murmur. 

Every day some incident reminded the recluse that, 
though she had left the world, the world would not 
easily let go its prey. Her debts pursued her into the 
very cloister. When the Comte de Vermandois died, 
among his possessions was found an immense claim 
for 1 50,000 livres, lent by " the Admiral " to " the 
Duchess " at legal interest. Certainly, the Duchess 
had not borrowed this sum for herself, and the 
transaction concerned property of which she was but 
the titular proprietor. Nevertheless she was liable 
to find herself, on this account, a debtor to the 
Crown — a department as rapacious then as now. 

At the discussion of the marriage-contract between 

Mile de Blois and the Prince de Conti, Louis XIV. 

had instituted between his daughter and son civil ties 

which the Acts of Legitimation alone could not create. 

New Letters-Patent conferred on brother and sister 

respectively the rights of succession. Mention was 

made of this in Marie-Anne's contract. All the 

same, the Crown took possession of the Comte de 

Vermandois' property, alleging that those Letters only 

entitled the Princesse de Conti to inherit under a will, 

and that her brother had died intestate. It would be 

idle to discuss the arguments put forth by the Treasury. 

They were at least plausible, since the King was 

obliged to specify his intention of declaring Mme de 

Conti her brother's heiress, conformably to the Letters 

of January, 1680, and to the clauses of her marriage 

contract.^ This stubborn attitude of the Treasury 

officials is not unworthy of notice. 

^ Reaieil ghieral^ v. III. p. 336. The letters were registered March 
18, 1684. 



Louise dc La Valli^re 365 

Saint Teresa, when recommending her nuns not 
wiUingly to mix themselves up with the every-day 
business of their kindred, gave as a reason the fact that 
they would be only too often impelled by grave events 
to come out of their retirement to advise or to console. 
What happened in the family of Sister Louise de la 
Misericorde amply justified such wise provisions. The 
poor woman had hardly liquidated her son's pro- 
perty before she had to regulate that of her son-in- 
law. The reader will remember in the midst of 
what transports of joy were celebrated the nuptials 
of Armand de Bourbon, Prince de Conti, and Marie- 
Anne, demoiselle de Blois. It was a marriage made 
in Heaven, a marriage of love on earth ! The pair 
loved each other " as in the romances." One of them 
was nineteen, the other barely fourteen ; both were 
very ignorant of the world, and, above all, of them- 
selves. The awakening was prompt and cruel. Three 
months after this ideal wedding, the little Princess 
declared her husband to be ill-shapen ; and all asked 
themselves " where a girl of thirteen or fourteen 
could have learnt what was the shape of a well-shaped 
man ! " The King drew aside this little lady, so young 
yet already so capable, and for three hours gave her 
" a talking-to." But he had his trouble for nothing. 
Louis had diverted himself with the romantic fancy of 
two children. He had played with his daughter as if 
she were a doll, and, no matter what he might say 
now as father and master, Marie-Anne went on being 
" like a little harpy to her husband." How could 
she have fancied this Louis- Armand, so awkward and 
pedantic, when she had his brother before her eyes, 
the Prince de La Roche-sur-Yon, her first partner 
at her first ball ? It was he who really appre- 
ciated her dancing ! He appreciated it so openly and 
after a fashion so impertinent, that his brother. 



3^^ Louise de La Valli^re 

touchy as all deformed persons are, was wild with 
jealousy. And when we think that the hero of this 
caprice was at most fifteen or sixteen ! Louis 
ought to have sent the absurd children back into their 
schoolrooms. But was the King any wiser than they 
were? . . . 

Then came another misfortune. Conti did not 
stop at being jealous. This good young man, formerly 
so quick to solicit the advice of Sister Louise, so 
docile, so virtuous, turned suddenly into a prodigal 
and a libertine, neglecting his mother-in-law, ignoring 
his friends and his wife, passing all his time with 
profligates. . . He no longer thought of anything 
but roving about the world and duelling. Here was 
a too-dazzling example, for great and small, of the fate 
in store for rash love and romantic marriages ! 
Fortunately, these impious and precocious rivals re- 
covered their brotherly affection on the battle-field. 
First they emulated one another in courage at the 
siege of Courtrai, fighting beside their brother-in-law 
and cousin, Vermandois. Then, when peace was 
re-established on the French frontier, they rushed, in 
spite of the King, to seek further laurels on the banks 
of the Danube. 

This last escapade so irritated Louis XIV. that he 
forbade the Princesse de Conti to send a halfpenny to 
the volunteers. Either from a spirit of contradiction, 
or a return of tenderness, Marie-Anne, so hard to the 
husband " in presence," showed herself quite devoted 
to the absent Prince. They wrote tender and satirical 
letters to each other, full of Court-gossip. Very 
prudently, the couple did not make use of the post ; 
but the King suspected those who suspected the post. 
He knew no delicacy as to the privacy of letters. 
He had the page Mercy, courier of the Prince de 
Conti, arrested, his baggage seized, and his person 



Louise de La Valli^re i^^ 

searched.^ Alas, the Dutch Gazettes were not more 
caustic than this correspondence between a daughter of 
France and a Prince of the Royal Family ! And the 
criticisms wounded the King all the more because they 
touched on a point involving his vanity. 

Despite the unsuccessful result of the Conti-de Blois 
union, Louis XIV. on July 23, 1685, married almost 
under the same conditions, his natural daughter, 
Louise-Fran^oise, known as Mile de Nantes, aged 
twelve, to Louis, Due de Bourbon, aged sixteen. It 
was felt to be so offensive not only to reason, but to 
nature, that in the evening they were only put for the 
sake of form in the same bed. The Montespan alone — 
that most heartless of women and mothers — regretted 
that the marriage had not been consummated.^ 

Fortunately, this infamy is irrelevant to our subject. 
We return to the Princesse de Conti. She appeared 
with so divine a grace at the ceremony that she 
seemed " beyond humanity," From the height of 
this triumph she thought it amusing to send her 
husband a comic account of the wedding, calling the 
young couple "the married puppets." Yet Louise-Fran- 
goise was her sister, and the goddaughter of her mother, 
the Duchesse de La Valliere. But this last detail 
was known to few. 

Doubtless the "little puppets" would have been 
yielded up as fitting prey for the impertinence of the 
young demi-goddess, if she had not aimed her darts 
higher still, at a goddess at once superior and un- 
avowed. Having espoused the most virtuous and noble 

1 " The letters went on, and the King, who has always been very 
curious to open them. . . ." (Dangeau, Memoires, v. V. p. 167 ; 
March, 1695). 

^ SouRCHEs, Memoires, v. I. p. 252. Lavallee {Correspondance 
generate de Madame de Maintenon, v. II. p. 409) wrongly supposes 
that MM. de la Roche-sur-Yon, etc., were in Hungary with the Prince 
de Conti. Ed, De Barthelemy {La Princesse de Conti, p. 328) calls the 
courier Merez. 



3^8 Louise de La Valli^rc 

of Princesses, having had as mistresses the tenderest, 
the wittiest, and the prettiest women of their time, 
Louis XIV., still young, barely in his forty-fourth year, 
had, like any old fool, married his bastards' governess ! 
If religion and strict morality excuse this inept union, 
preferring it to some scandalous intimacy, it must also 
be confessed that the spectacle of the Widow Scarron, 
seated between the throne of Marie-Therese and the 
tabouret of the Montespan, excited the contempt 
of some, the wrath of others, and the raillery of 
all. That enigmatic woman, henceforth sure of her 
ascendancy, played the part of a perfect step-mother. 
She did everything imaginable to make the king find 
pleasure and innocent amusement in the bosom of his 
family — so the good ladies of St. Cyr assure us. Was a 
walk, a game, some amusement planned ? Instantly 
Madame would say to the King : *' Let us send for 
the Princesse de Conti." The Princess came — and 
Madame thought her charming, and cried, " Here is a 
Princess who has turned out very well." And she 
who had *' turned out so well " was writing to her 
husband : " The King often takes a walk, and I find 
myself between Mme de Maintenon and Mme la 
Princesse d'Harcourt ; you can imagine how I enjoy 
myself! " 

It was these gay letters which were seized and 
handed over to the lady who walked and dined with 
the King. The Marquise affected deep disdain in 
public, but privately made bitter moan to the 
Princesse de Conti. " Weep, Madame, weep ; for 
there is no greater misfortune than to lack a kind 
heart." Louis, who formerly had indulged in so many 
doubtful pleasantries with regard to the Queen, " would 
permit no one to make fun of Mme de Maintenon." 
He was angry ; but he greatly loved his daughter, who, 
he knew, loved him. So the Lady, magnanimous and 



Louise de La Valli^rc 369 

subtle, contrived to mollify the King, whose wrath was 
not very serious. The Princess got off with a slice of 
humble-pie : she had to beg the intercession of the 
woman she hated. 

But the Prince de Conti did not escape so easily. 
Several of his friends' letters were found, full of 
'* abominable vice " and " great impiety." Mme de 
Maintenon, too, was much abused in them. Always 
charitable, however, she contented herself with pointing 
out the offences towards the King. Certainly, the Prince 
was but the recipient of these letters ; still, if it was 
thought well to write them, it must have been supposed 
that he would enjoy reading them. However it was, this 
time also Jupiter's thunder was to break harmlessly. The 
two young Conti men, covered with wounds and glory, 
had stopped beyond the Rhine before Strasbourg, on 
the French frontier, awaiting the King's pleasure 
(September i, 1685). Louis, who was in reality very 
proud of their success, forgave them. Having imposed 
on them a sort of sojourn in Purgatory, far from the 
sight of himself,^ he was ready, on the assurance of 
his son-in-law's perfect contrition, to restore to him the 
full contemplation of his Royal Majesty, when the young 
Prince was suddenly called before the King of Kings. 

An epidemic of small-pox had broken out. This 
dangerous malady, then particularly terrible, attacked 
La Valli^re's daughter, the Princesse de Conti, on 
the very eve of a triumph, for she was rehearsing 
most successfully the steps of a new ballet, the Temple 
de la Paix (October 12, 1685). The King hastened 
to his daughter, and found with her his son-in-law, 
who insisted on shutting himself up with his wife, despite 
the danger. Marie-Anne recovered ; the Prince died. 

^ " The King had deprived M. le Prince de Conti of the right of 
entry to his room. . . It was a great mortification for him to have 
to wait at a door " (Sourches, Memoires, v. I. p. 304). 

24 



Zlo Louise de La Valliere 

The disease carried him off in five or six days. These 
Conti were certainly the true sons of a good mother. 
Hardly had the Prince de la Roche-sur-Yon heard of 
his elder's illness than he hastened to his side. The 
Princess herself, spared by the scourge, wished to risk 
her life anew — and more than her life, her beauty. 
Only the express wish of her husband prevented her 
from remaining day and night at his bedside. Never was 
shown more complete or more spontaneous conjugal 
devotion. Those who witnessed it never doubted that 
it sprang from the generosity of noble and affectionate 
hearts. But such is the persistence of a bad reputation, 
that the great moralist La Bruyere wrote in his Caracteres : 
"We do, from vanity or a sense of decorum, the same 
things, and in the same manner, as those we do from 
inclination or a sense of duty. So-and-so has just 
died in Paris from a fever contracted while nursing an 
unloved wife." So-and-so is the Prince de Conti. 
Thus are human judgments formed and propagated ! 

From all this we perceive that family anxieties were 
not spared to Sister Louise de la Misericorde. She 
had always loved the young Prince de Conti for his 
sweet disposition, as well as in memory of his parents. 
But she was firm and resigned, as at the death of 
her son. We must do her contemporaries the 
justice to say that none of them mistook the cause of 
this apparent lack of feeling. Louise was not taking 
refuge in a kind of contemplative egotism. Far from 
that, she added to her grief the voluntary privation 
of solace, which she could easily have obtained. Again, 
if her Mother, if her Sisters, in religion did not offer 
to share her sorrows, it was not from indifference. 
To these handmaidens of Christ it was taught that 
to go to the help of a companion who had not given 
way under the weight of her cross was — not to succour 
her, but to rob her of a grace. 



Louise de La Valli^re 37 1 

The following year brought more sorrow. Mme 
de Saint-Remi died about the beginning of April. ^ 
This time there is complete silence on the subject ot 
Louise's feelings — and that is well. Truly, there 
would have been something impious in spying on 
the poor lady, expiating her error, while she wept 
for the ignoble mother who had never protected her. 

1 Dangeau, Memoires, v. I. p. 318. See April 4. See also Memoires 
de Sourches, v. I. p. 375. The Princesse de Conti gave the pension of 
two thousand ecus allowed to her grandmother, to the Duchesse de 
Choiseul, her cousin-german through the Marquis de La Valliere. 



c: 



CHAPTER III 

1686-1710 

WE have seen what anxiety, care, and grief 
pursued Louise into that retreat where super- 
ficial minds imagine that utter repose is to 
be found. The nun, as sensitive as the Duchess, was, 
however, more resigned. She had been uncertain of 
herself at first, and so she had begun by preventing 
herself from embracing her children. She felt firmer 
now, and she undertook the duty of looking after 
her nephews and nieces. 

Her brother had left one son and two daughters. 
Of these latter, the elder, Louise-Gabrielle (evidently 
a god-daughter), married, on June 30, 1681, Cesar- 
Auguste de Choiseul. She was a handsome girl, 
*' with a divine figure . . . and charmingly intelligent." 
Mme de S6vigne called her *' Triumphant Choiseul," 
and truly her beauty did triumph over very serious 
illnesses ; but she was light to the verge of misconduct, 
and compromised herself to such an extent that her 
husband was called upon to choose between having 
her shut up or abandoning all hope of his Marshal's 
b^ton. Choiseul, who was a brave soldier — and a 
credulous husband — renounced his hopes of the baton ; 
yet was obliged in the end to repudiate the lady also. 
No one had the smallest control over the naughty 
Duchess ; but it was felt that at least she must not 
be allowed to infect her sister, Marie- Yolande — so 

372 



Louise de La Valli^re 373 

her aunt sent the younger girl, as a " parlour-boarder," 
to the Abbey of Faremoustier. All intercourse with 
Mme de Choiseul was forbidden. " 1 may tell you, 
between ourselves," wrote Bossuet to the Abbess, " that 
Mme de La Valliere, the Carmelite nun, begged me to 
insist on this." On the other hand, Louis desired 
that they should receive the girl's mother, the Marquise 
de La Valliere. But behold, Marie- Yolande was 
already infected ! She did not like the cloister, threatened 
to kill herself — upset the whole place with her tantrums. 
The Princesse de Conti was appealed to, and inter- 
vened, saying that if her cousin would not listen to 
reason, she would have to yield to force. Bossuet, 
disturbed and worried, attacked Louise's solitude once 
more. It is a peculiarity of those nuns who feel a 
true vocation to dread even the appearance of restraint 
for others. Louise caused Marie-Anne to be set at 
liberty, and they ended by finding her a husband — 
Charles du Mas, Marquis de Brossay (June 3, 1697). 
On the occasion of this marriage, the Princesse de 
Conti had asked her Royal father's permission to invite 
her aunt, Mme d'Entragues, and her cousin, the 
Duchesse de Choiseul, to the ceremony. The King 
replied that the Duchess was too notorious, but that 
his daughter might consult Mme de La Valliere, and 
'* do whatever she said." Whereupon the irreproachable 
Mme de Maintenon wrote off to the Archbishop of 
Paris : " I do not doubt that our holy Carmelite will 
exact this concession, without realising that, in so 
doing, she will be injuring her daughter more than 
she will be honouring others " ! She wrote holy^ 
because she dared not write silly. Her hard, calculating 
nature could not understand a sweet soul like that 
of Louise. The Duchesse de Choiseul, once " The 
Triumphant," was now The Repudiated, and already 
the victim of that affection of the lungs which killed 



374 Louise de La Vallierc 

her in the flower of her age — and our gentle Carmelite 
pitied her profoundly. 



We have seen the Princesse de Conti intervening to 
keep her cousin in order. That would have been all 
very well if this Dowager of twenty-seven had not 
continually needed to be kept in order herself. Marie- 
Anne, who had deeply mourned her husband, had 
consoled herself quickly — and often. She soon fell 
into discredit. The King scolded, but in vain. Of 
all his children she is said to have been the most like 
him ; and so she was. But though physically a Bour- 
bon, Marie-Anne showed herself a true daughter of 
La Valliere in grace, kindness, and spontaneous gene- 
rosity. She never lost her love for her mother's family. 
While Louis XIV. 's men of business were arranging 
everything so that her fortune, in default of direct 
heirs, should revert to the Crown, she, young as she 
was, was trying to make, and succeeded in making, 
her cousin La Valliere proprietor of the demesne of 
Vaujours. With exquisite delicacy, she insisted on 
transmitting this estate to him, free of all expense. 
It now brought in almost nothing — scarcely eight or 
ten thousand iivres. She paid the pensions which her 
mother, on abandoning the world, had left to some 
relatives and old servants ; and whenever the Carme- 
lites wanted anything for their poor, Louise confidently 
applied to her daughter. She was even bold enough 
to reprimand her for her faults. One day she wrote 
to her friend Bellefonds : " We must pray for her, 
and ask that she may enter into the Kingdom of God ; 
for apparently nothing else will be wanting to her " 
(September 6, 1688). A little later, writing to Denis 
Dodart, the Princess's doctor, an excellent man, she 
said again : " I hope much from your care for the 



Louise de La Valliere 375 

soul as well as for the body of this poor woman." 
Poor woman ! Marie-Anne de Bourbon, Ugitimee of 
France, Dowager of Conti, rich, beautiful, witty ! 'Tis 
thus that from the heights of Carmel the grandeurs of 
the world are regarded. 

Curiosity and admiration brought many a visitor to 
our recluse. Pope's Nuncios, Ambassadors, Foreign 
Princes, all came to the Carmelite's parlour. Some 
wanted to see, others to hear, the " illustrious penitent " 
who had amazed all Europe. Sister Louise's humility 
and love of solitude were broken in upon by these 
multifarious distractions ; but she accepted them as a 
sacrifice, and thought that she owed her God this kind 
of public testimony to His loving-kindness. One day 
she was told that Mme de Montespan awaited her at 
the grille — Mme de Montespan, no longer the arrogant 
favourite, with her train of courtiers around her, 
parading an indecent gaiety in the austere retreat ; but 
Mme de Montespan disgraced, banished from Court, 
wanting to take refuge in a nunnery, but not able to 
make up her mind to stay there — Mme de Montespan, 
deserted by her lover, repudiated by her husband, 
despised by all her children, legitimate or not ! And 
Athenais would ask her victim for counsel which never 
in her life would she be capable of carrying out.^ The 
pride of the one, the discretion of the other, have 
left us no record of these interviews. Before going 
into her convent, the Duchesse de La Valliere had 
said : " If ever I am in trouble at the Carmelites, I 
shall recall to mind what all these people here have 

1 " I saw Mme de Montespan . . . when she was no longer at 
Court . . . going to Mme de La Valliere, who had become, as it 
were, her spiritual director " {Souvenirs de Mme de Cay Ins, p. 35. 
Ramnie ed. Paris, 1881). MM. Lemoine and Lichtenberger have 
published Mme de Montespan 's baptismal certificate. In it she seems 
to have been given only the name of Franfoise, which, in actual life, 
was replaced by those of Ath^na'is and Diane. Perhaps these two 
were given her at her confirmation. 



37^ Louise de La Valli^re 

inflicted upon me." But, on the contrary, it was 
" these people " who now sought her as the confidante 
of their own troubles ! 



One of the most remarkable traits in the character 
of Sister Louise was charity — and that not only 
contemplative, but, when necessary, active. She did 
not lose interest in the needs of her Church and 
country. Far from resembling those religious women 
who affect indifference to the joys and griefs of the rest 
of the world, Louise de la Misericorde — more gener- 
ous and assuredly more Christian — never missed an 
opportunity for doing good. 

But all her efforts were not crowned with success. 
One day, Bellefonds begged her to write to the Anglican 
Doctor, Burnett, who was passing through Paris, and 
whom he hoped to convert to Catholicism. The Doctor 
went to the Carmelites. In his youth — and Bellefonds 
was doubtless ignorant of this — Burnett had lived 
a solitary and austere life, and had attributed to that 
excessive virtue his early breakdown in health. He 
was now a big, fat man, and the monastic austerity 
which he beheld at the Carmelites simply revolted him. 
He was very far from being converted — on the contrary, 
he twice re-married after this ; but he always retained 
a hostile memory of the attempt, as he showed in 
a book which he wrote in later years. " Bellefonds," 
said he, " read his Bible attentively, and lived the 
life of a hermit at Court " — going on to describe him 
as " a most pious gentleman, but particularly foolish." 
Burnett, however, had the good taste to say nothing 
about Sister Louise's character. 

One chronicler seems to imply that Mme de La 
Valliere attempted to intervene in the theological 
squabbles which troubled the second half of the seven- 



Louise de La Valli^re 377 

teenth century — but he is alone in his implication. 
The Grand Convent had early repudiated the whole 
Jansenist teaching.^ In a letter, of which we possess 
only a short analysis, Louise speaks enthusiastically of a 
prelate who would not permit, in his diocese, the 
easy doctrine of Pere Lemoyne, nor the 'J'raite de Vart 
d'expedier une confession. 

But these details are uncertain. Here are some 
certain ones. Louise de La Valli^re had chosen as 
her motto that phrase of the Duchesse de Longueville : 
'' The body has sinned ; let the body suffer." She 
asked to be given all the hardest, coarsest labours — 
and she added fasting to the bread-and-water diet. 
Mother Agnes de Bellefonds often enjoined her to 
moderate her austerities. " You would spare me, my 
Mother," replied the penitent ; " but God will not 
let me be spared." One Good Friday, listening to the 
tale of Christ crucified — His thirst slaked by vinegar 
and gall — she remembered how, hunting at Fontaine- 
bleau, she used to send for and drink long, delicious 
beverages ; and, for three months after that, she lived 
without drinking at all, and for three years took only 
half a glass of water in the day. Her health suffered 
from this privation, and once more she was reprimanded. 
Again, it was observed that one of her legs bore traces 
of a deep erysipelas-like wound — and yet, no one 
had heard a complaint from Sister Louise. Once more 
she was severely blamed, and excused herself by saying 
that she had hardly noticed it. 

Nor did this arise from any undue exaltation of 
spirit. " My heart," she would say, " is ready to 
implore the Lord to deliver me for ever from this 

1 See the MS. Memoire preserved at the Carmelite Convent until 
the Ladies were obliged to go into exile. Let us hope that they may 
soon return to their country and their holy dwelling. (Note written 
in igo2.) " 6"«?<?» " will come — tardily — but it w/// come. . , 



37^ Louise de La Valliere 

prison. . . But since I do not know that some 
vanity is not mingled with my desire to do good, I 
say with all my soul : Thy will be done, O Lord. 
Perfect submission and humble acceptance of all that it 
pleases the Divine Providence to send us, is the only 
way to draw down upon ourselves His abundant mercy." 

Her sincere and simple piety had actually disarmed 
the venomous libellists of the period. By 1678, they 
were already admitting that nobler motives than 
mortification had driven her into the Convent. In 
1695, the book-sellers, unable to resist the golden 
temptation, republished, under the title of Fie de la 
Duchesse de La Valliere^ a miserable compilation of the 
pamphlets published about 1665. They announced 
that the public would find them to be "a curious 
narrative of her love-affair and repentance," and that 
" nothing more beautiful than the sequel to her conver- 
sion had ever been known." Finally, alluding to the 
Reflexions sur la misericorde de Dieu : " One would be 
obliged," said they, " to copy the whole little book 
if one wished to point out all that it contains in the 
way of touching and sincerely penitent passages. There- 
fore we shall say no more, but simply refer the reader 
to the text. Perhaps already even we have said too 
much ; perhaps we shall be accused of making a medley 
of holy things and profligate anecdotes." By this time, 
indeed, the Reflexions had been reprinted six times, with- 
out counting the translations and forgeries. 

The name of La Valliere had never been detested 
as that of Montespan had ; and by this time it had 
become so positively popular that it was given to 
collections of dreams and visions. The recluse was 
being transformed into a seer ! ^ 

1 Brieves remarqties sur le songe de la reine refugiee d'Angleterre et 
sur celui de madame L. de La Valliere, nomviee a present la Mere L. 
de la Misericorde (Amsterdam. T. Lejeuiie. 1690). See Bulletin 
du Bibliophile, i860, p. 1000. 



Louise de La Valli^re 379 

We have mentioned the tributes of respect from the 
King, from Princes, and from dignitaries of the Church. 
Besides these, Queen Marie-Therese, the Dauphiness, 
the Duchesse de Bourgogne, all went regularly to visit 
Sister Louise. The King would always remind them not 
to forget that she v/as a Duchess and to cause her to 
be seated in their presence. But the Duchess would 
refuse. " When I made my profession, I renounced 
all, forgot all ; I am only a nun, like the rest." Per- 
haps superficial people imagined that the Carmelites 
were proud of their penitent, but if they did, they 
were very much mistaken. Louise always declared that 
they had done her an incalculable favour in admitting 
her to the number of those holy women. 

That was the essence of the cry which broke from 
her when she was mourning the death of Mother 
Agnes de Bellefonds. " As for myself, sir," she wrote 
to the Marshal, '' think, 1 implore you, of all that I 
owe her. Only such charity as hers could have dared 
to accept a wretch like myself. She did not hesitate, 
as you know. I still marvel at it as much as I did 
at first." And her feeling was fine and right. Louise 
was expiating her own errors among innocent, pure 
women who were offering themselves to God in expia- 
tion for the sins of others. And, in a touching rivalry 
of generosity, the Carmelite Sisters, while never 
reminding their penitent of the charity they had shown 
her, admired in silence her sincere remorse and her 
complete change of heart. 

At Carmel, there are no honorary functions ; there 
are only duties in the fullest sense of the word, and 
the most worthy undertake them equally with the 
rest. Louise, as she herself admitted, was a bad 
housekeeper, and she had suffered too deeply in her 
high place in society to desire aught in her retreat but 
the lowest seat of all. She was merely appointed 



380 Louise de La Valli^re 

sacristine : that is to say, she tended the Oratory of 
the Convent. Her humihty was so great that she 
asked to be relegated to the poorest Convent of the 
Order — and the most remote. But her request was 
not acceded to. " Her example," said the Mother 
Prioress, " was too useful to us, and her person too 
dear, for us to consent to her removal." Must not 
a refusal couched in such terms have been a most 
precious recompense for twenty-five years of repent- 
ance? What a change, was it not.'' from the day 
when, on hearing her name, the nuns had instinc- 
tively, as it were, moved away from Mme de La 
Valliere ! And now the converted sinner was one of 
their sisters, one of their mothers, at once their solace 
and their pattern. 

For the rest, Sister Louise was less and less visited 
during these closing years of her life. Time was doing 
his work, was removing curiosity — -and those who could 
feel curiosity. At the Carmelites, though they avoid 
the living, they pray for them as well as for the dead. 
How many dead already figured in our recluse's prayers ! 
Many of her friends and companions had gone before 
she had retired at all ; and, since her profession, she 
had seen her brother, her son, her son-in-law, her 
mother — all depart. Later, among her friends, Colbert 
and Queen Marie-Th6rese. In 1700, more gaps 
were made. Of the three young Princesses of Orleans, 
her friends of the Blois days, one only survived, the 
Princess of Tuscany, who had been immured suc- 
cessively in the Abbey of Montmartre and in the 
Convents of Picpus and Saint-Mande, who lived ob- 
scurely despite her lineage, unloved despite her kind- 
ness, giving much yet looked upon as miserly, behaving 
soberly — yet watched, at fifty, as if she were a 
disreputable woman ! " Cousin Charles," Due de 
Lorraine, had died a soldier's death. As to Made- 



Louise de La Valli^re 381 

molselle, La Grande Mademoiselle, she had died without 
ever having known happiness, a soured creature, 
detesting Lauzun — Lauzun, who had never loved her. 
Of the superb Mancini girls, two, Hortense and 
Marie-Anne, whose fortunes were as unlike as their 
characters, had yet ended by dying in the same exile. 
Marie, the Constabless, was reduced to beggary. 

Pitiless Time had mown down impartially friends 
and foes, good hearts and bad hearts — old Saint-Aignan 
and Roquelaure, Bellefonds and Ranee. . . 

Who, then, were left of all the young people of 1 66 1 } 
Du Fouilloux, the maid-of-honour, with 1 50,000 livres 
for her perquisite — now Comtesse d'Alluye, but poor 
and shabby, breakfasting from the ham-and-beef shop 
(so a contemporary tells us) and cadging for a decent 
dinner among her old acquaintances ; the d'Artigny 
girl, now Comtesse du Roure, the Mancini, Comtesse 
de Soissons — both of them tagged with a tale of 
poisons ! Then Mme de Montespan, willing at last to 
be virtuous, and Mme de Maintenon, from the first re- 
signed to that role ; and finally, Louis, Louis the God- 
given, now proclaimed as Louis the Great. Very great 
he truly was in many respects, but weak enough not 
to have carried proudly his widowhood of the noblest 
of women — and now living, in the great French Court, 
like any rich old bachelor " caught " by his children's 
governess, and forcing her upon his friends, his heirs, 
his neighbours ! Sister Louise might have counted 
that as another death. 

The cloister itself could have taught her the old 
lesson of the shortness of life and the passing away of 
all things. The community was almost entirely changed 
since she had been a postulant in 1674. Fifty nuns had 
received her, and thirty-four of them were dead before 
the end of 1700. By that time, the gaps in her former 
circle — the worldly circle — were quite innumerable. 



3^2 Louise de La Valli^re 

Louise saw the decadence of the great reign, which 
had begun so gloriously — which finished amid so many 
humiliations. That Oratory of the Carmelites which 
she had so loved to deck out, she despoiled with her 
own hands ; from that fair Chapel, she and her Sisters 
took down eagerly the decorations of gold and of 
silver, so that they might send them to the Treasury 
of the King, and thus contribute to the defence of 
their country. Truly she might cry, with Bossuet 
(now also in his grave), "What a state — and what a 
state ! " The young slim girl who danced so grace- 
fully, the Duchess whose beauty still struck the crowd 
as she wended her way to the Carmelites, and impressed 
the illustrious company assembled to see her take the 
veil, " little La Valliere," the Duchesse de Vaujours, 
Sister Louise de la Misericorde — was now more than 
sixty years old. She was very infirm. Habitual 
headache, sciatica, terrible rheumatism in every limb — 
all these tried her endurance. Her constitution was 
shattered, and she suffered too from a painful internal 
disorder. A phrase of her Prioress admirably depicts 
her, now so wracked with suffering : " She shows only 
the pain she cannot conceal." 

When they begged her to take some rest : " There 
is no more rest for me on earth," she answered. And 
there was never a murmur — or, if there were, it was 
for her long exile here below. Still, urged by the 
anxious Sisters, and ever obedient, she did consent to 
take some thought for herself — but it came too late. 
Her sufferings increased. She exulted in them. A 
nun once expressed grief at seeing her in such a 
state, and the sick woman, utterly exhausted, raised 
her hands and eyes to heaven, and answered only 
in the words of the Psalm : " Virga tua et baculus 
tuus ipsa me consolata sunt'" — thanking God that He 
permitted her to do penance. In former days, she 




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After the Obituarj- at Port-Royal. 

SISTER LOUISE DE LA MISERICORDE ON HER' DEATH-BED. 



Louise de La Valli^re 383 

had obtained permission to rise two hours before the 
rest of the community. On the day before her death 
she tried, at three o'clock in the morning, to perform 
her usual devotions ; but the pain was too much for 
even her courage, and she could not reach the choir. 
Unable to proceed, she leaned against the wall, speech- 
less with agony. Two hours later, a nun found her 
there, and hastened to tell the nursing-sister. They 
had to carry Louise away. Despite her illness, she 
would not have her serge garments changed for linen. 
The doctors, hurriedly summoned, had her bled, but 
they saw immediately that all was in vain. 

The Carmelites consider it necessary to warn invalids 
of their danger ; but it was not necessary to warn Louise. 
She knew her last hour was come, and joyfully welcomed 
death. Acute inflammation aggravated her pain ; she 
merely repeated : '* It is fitting that a sinner should die 
in desperate agony." On the following night, growing 
weaker and weaker, she asked for the Last Sacraments. 
It was ^June 6. In that sweet month, she had once 
made her d^but at Court ; in it too, at Fontainebleau, 
she had inspired and yielded to that long-expiated 
passion. But in the supreme hour, her thoughts went 
no further back than to the beginning of her second 
life, and she said to the Sisters : "God has done all 
for me ; in this season He once received from me the 
sacrifice of my Profession ; and I hope that He will 
also receive the sacrifice of well-merited suffering which I 
am ready to offer Him." She confessed, communicated 
— and they thought that the anguish had ceased for a 
while. But almost instantly a great weakness came 
over her, and they were obliged to recall the Abb6 
Pirot. He administered Extreme Unction, and she 
was quite conscious while she received it. It was then 
eleven o'clock in the morning. At this moment the 
Princesse de Conti, who had been summoned, arrived, 



3^4 Louise de La Valli^re 

but the dying woman could no longer articulate. 
By tender looks and holy gestures, she conveyed 
all her desires for that dear daughter. She preserved 
this lucidity of mind to the end. The venerable Abbe 
Pirot, seeing her suffering, suggested this prayer : 
" Lord, if you increase my anguish, increase my 
patience also " — and she, unable to speak, showed by 
signs that she was offering it silently. At last, God 
put an end to her pain. She died at midday, aged 
sixty-five years and ten months, after thirty-six years 
.of the religious life, "leaving the community as 
distressed by her death as it was edified by her 
repentance." 

The news of her death spread quickly. It was 
the custom to place the bodies of deceased Carmelite 
nuns near the railing of the choir, for a sort of 
lying-in-state. When Sister Louise's body was so 
displayed, there was such an extraordinary concourse 
of all sorts of persons that the grille had to be left 
open from the morning until half-past five in the 
evening ; and during that time four nuns had all 
they could do to receive and give back the reliquaries, 
medals, books, images, which were passed to them 
so that they might touch the holy remains of the 
penitent. " And at last, when the ecclesiastics entered 
for the burying, there broke forth all over the church 
a confused clamour of voices, which, so to speak, 
canonised her in advance, imploring with confident 
and pious zeal the intercession of a soul which was 
regarded as consummated in the Infinite Sanctity of 
God." The nuns, more measured in their sentiment, 
when writing their customary circular-letter, merely 
said : " We ask the usual suffrages of the Order for 
our much-honoured Sister Louise de la Misericorde, 
professed nun of this Convent, whom an illness of 
thirty hours has just removed from our midst." The 



Louise de La Valli^re 385 

whole Carmelite spirit is in those words, " an illness 
of thirty hours " ! The Prioress reckoned as nothing 
thirty-six years of austerities, of fasts, of voluntary 
sufferings. 



When they told the King of Louise de La Valliere's 
death, he did not seem touched. He had lost even 
that faculty of weeping which had formerly given him 
an appearance of sensibility. To account for his in- 
difference, he thought it necessary to say that from 
the day Louise had given herself to God, she was dead 
to him. Men are like that. He was pleased to forget 
the eight years of desertion, humiliation, and disgust 
inflicted on the unhappy woman before he permitted her 
to retire to a Convent. 



Popular imagination represents Sister Louise as having 
been buried with a ring on her finger — the ring given 
by the only man she had ever loved. It is utterly false. 
Moreover, Sister Louise de la Misericorde would not 
have kept a ring which Louise de La Valliere had never 
had the right to wear. They buried her as all her 
Sisters in religion are buried ; and, obeying the usages 
of the Order, a little stone, bearing only her religious 
name and the date of her death, was placed above the 
mound which covered her. Alas ! even the deepest 
humility is no safeguard against the basest outrage : 
those impious hands which violated the pompous tombs 
of Saint-Denis, did not spare the modest head-stones 
of the Carmelites — and the same Revolutionary tempest 
swept away, and perhaps commingled, the ashes of 
Louis the Great and of Louise de La Valliere. 



25 



I N DEX 



Adam (Charlotte) Lady-of- 
Honour to Catherine de 
Medicis, wife of Jean le 
Blanc, 5 

Adam (Marie) sister of Char- 
lotte, 8 ; married to Laurent 
le Blanc, 9 

Agnes de Jesus (Mother), 
Carmelite nun. See Belle- 
FONDS (Judith de) 

Albret (Cesar-Phebus, 

Marechal d'), 66 

Albret (Charles-Amanieu, 

Marquis d'), lover of Mme de 
La Motte, kUled at the Castle 
of Pinon, 171 

Alluye {Dame d'). See 

FOUILLOUX. 

Alluye (Paul d'Escoubleau de 

Sourdis, Marquis d'), 33 ; 

mixed up in the Mile de La 

Motte intrigue, 108 
Amboise (Castle of), Foucquet's 

prison, 81 
Amboise (Government of), the 

Lieutenancy is given to 

Laurent de La Baume Le 

Blanc, 6 
Amiens, sojourn of the Court 

at, 303 
Amours deguises (Ballet of Les), 

138 
Amours de Madame {Les), 

pamphlet, 159 
Amours du Palais-Royal {Les), 



libel printed in 1665, 159; 
entire edition bought up by 
Madame, id. 

Amphitryon, Comedy, played at 
Court, 220 

Angleterre (Henriette d'), 
Duchesse d' Orleans, daughter 
of Charles I., called Madame. 
Ball given in her honour, 25 ; 
marries Philippe d'Orleans, 
only brother of the King, 5 3 ; 
takes La Valliere as Maid-of~ 
Honour, 5 5 ; her portrait, 
61 ; goes to Villeroy and 
Dampierre with the Queen- 
mother, 65 ; representations 
made to her with regard to 
her attitude towards the 
King, 65 ; object of the 
Comte de Guiche's atten- 
tions, 77 ; her pregnancy an- 
nounced in 1 66 1, 84 ; leaves 
Fontainebleau in autumn, 
1 66 1, taking Louise, 85 ; 
her adventures with the 
Comte de Guiche, 86 ; 103 ; 
associated with Comtesse de 
Soissons in an attempt at 
revenge upon Louise, 127 ; 
expels the Comtesse de 
Soissons, 153 ; has the edition 
of Les Amours du Palais- 
Royal bought up, 159; ill 
at Saint-Cloud after mis- 
carriage, 212 ; her death, 
260 ; her autopsy, 271 

Anjou (Due d'), son of 



387 



388 



Index 



' Louis XIV., his death, 
' 290 

Anne of Austria, receives 
Mazarin's nieces at Palais- 
Royal, 25 ; her remon- 
strances to the King about 
Mile de La Motte-Argen- 
court, 26 ; orders the King 
to renounce the idea of 
marriage with the Princess of 
Savoy, 35 ; discipline with 
Maids-of-Honour, 56 ; takes 
Madame to Villeroy and 
Dampierre, 65 ; her repre- 
sentations to the King about 
Madame, 65 ; hears of the 
King's liaison, 72 ; her re- 
proaches, y;^ ; angry with 
Louise, 82 ; her incessant 
scolding of the King, 87 ; 
shows the King the real part 
played by Mile de La Motte- 
Houdancourt, 108 ; takes 
the Queen to the masked ball, 
126 ; is on bad terms with 
the King, 143 ; the King asks 
her pardon, 144 ; attacked 
by cancer, 163 ; remon- 
strates with the King, 164 ; 
her death, 167 

Anne-Elisabeth (Madame), 
daughter of Louis XIV. 
and Marie-Therese, born 
November 18, 1662 ; her 
death, December 30, 117 

Anne-Marie de Jesus (Sister), 
Carmelite nun, 351 

Arbouste (Vicomte de l'), 
friend of Mme de Polignac, 
180 

Armagnac (Catherine de Neuf- 
ville-VUleroy, Comtesse d'), 
dismissed from Court, 243. 

Armagnac (Louis de Lorraine, 
Comte d'), Grand Equerry ; 
called M. le Grand, 214 

Armor, See Foucquet (Made- 
leine) 



Arras, sojourn of the Court at, 
213 

Artigny (N. de Saint-Prive, 
Demoiselle d') her bad reputa- 
tion ; denounces the intrigue 
of Guiche with Madame, 
104 ; associates with La 
Valliere, 137 ; seat at Royal 
Table, 140 ; married to the 
Comte du Roure, 165 ; ac- 
companies La Valliere to 
la Fere, 208 

Arts (Ballet of Les), played at 
the Palais-Royal in 1663, 
120 

Aubigne (Frangoise d'). See 
Maintenon (Mme de) 

Aubray (Dreux d') father of 
the Marquise de Brinvilliers, 
183 

Avein (Day of), 6 

Aveurdre (Church of). See 
Veurdre (Le) 

Ayen (Anne-Jules de Noailles, 
Comte d'), mentioned, 259 



B 

Bade (Louise-Christine de 
Savoie-Carignan, Princesse 
de), 208 

Barbezieres, girl supposed to 
have been concerned in the 
intrigue between Guiche and 
Madame, 104 

Baume Le Blanc (Gilles de 
La), Abbe de La Valliire, 
uncle of Louise, 14 ; made 
Bishop of Nantes, 200 

Baume Le Blanc (Jean de La), 
Lord of la Gasserie, 5 

Baume Le Blanc (Laurent III., 
de La), father of Louise de 
La Vallidre, 3 ; Lordof Choisy- 
sur-Seine, 4 ; Lieutenant of 
Amboise, 6 ; his conduct 
with the Army, 6 ; his mar- 



Index 



389 



riage with Fran^oise Le 
Provost, 5, 10 ; defends 
Amboise against Made- 
moiselle, 10 ; his death, 10 

Baume Le Blanc (Louise de 
La), godmother of Louise de 
La Vallidre, 4 

Baume Le Blanc (Pierre de 
La), Equerry, Lord of La 
Roche, appointed trustee for 
Laurent's children, 1 1 

Baume (Manor of), in Bour- 
bonnais, origin of the family, 
4 ; departure of family, 5 

Beauchamp, Colbert's old ser- 
vant, and his wife ; en- 
trusted with Louise's first 
child, 132 

Beaufort (Fran9ois de Ven- 
dome, Due de), gives a bal 
champetre, in 1661, at Fon- 
tainebleau, 63 ; Admiral of 
France, dead, 235 

Beauregard (Rue), la Voisin's 
den there, 217 

Beauvau du Rivau (Jacques 
de), mentioned, 5 

Beauvau (Fran9ois de). Mar- 
quis de Rivarennes, Member 
of the Council for the 
guardianship of Louise, 57. 

Beauvau (Frangoise de), wife 
of Jean de La Baume Le 
Blanc, 5 

Beauvilliers (Due de). See 
Saint-Aignan 

Beauvoir (Jacqueline de Beau- 
voir de Grimoard du Roure). 
See PoLiGNAC (Mme de) 

Begon (Marie), mother of Mme 
Colbert, 130 

Bel-Esbat (Abbe de), Fouc- 
quet's spy, 42 

Bellefonds (Gigault de). 
Marshal of France, takes the 
King's condolences on the 
death of Madame to London, 
275 ; despatched to Convent 



at Chaillot to bring back 
Louise de La Valliere, 285 ; his 
disgrace, 297 ; resumes ser- 
vice, fights at Siege of 
Maestricht, 302 ; again dis- 
graced, 318 ; sells his post at 
Court, 349 

Bellefonds (Judith de), in 
religion Mother Agnes de 
Jesus, Carmelite nun, interests 
herself in La Valliere, 309 ; 
her death, 379 

Bellegarde, in the Pyrenees, 
castle belonging to M. de 
Montespan, 177 

Benserade, his ballet L' Impa- 
tience, 70 ; Les Saisons, 77 ; 
Hercule amour eux, 88 ; Les 
Arts, played at the Palais- 
Royal in 1663, 119; Les 
Muses, in 1667, 192 ; produces 
Le Carnaval, a Royal mas- 
querade, 220. 

Bernard (Marguerite), de- 
clared to be the mother of 
Philippe, La Valliere's second 
child, 150 

Bernin (le Cavalier), his draw- 
ings, 160 

Besnard (seigneur de Rezay), 
Councillor of the Parlement ; 
first husband of Elisabeth 
Martin de Mauroi, 10 

Beuvron, receives the poison 
intended for Madame, p. 273 

Beux (l^lisabeth de), 132 

BiET (Marguerite), godmother 
of Philippe, La Valliere's 
second child, 151 

Bieudre (the) River, 4 

Blanc, patronymic of the 
La Vallieres, 3 

Blanc (Charles Le), killed at 
the Siege of Spire, 6 

Blanc (Fran9ois Le), killed at 
the Siege of Lerida, 6 

Blanc (Gaillard Le), killed at 
the Battle of Sainte-Brigide, 6 



390 



Index 



Blanc (Jean Le), maitre d'hotel 
to Catherine de Medicis ; 
Mayor of Tours, 5 

Blanc (Laurent Le), killed at 
the Siege of Ostend, 6 

Blanc (Louis Le), killed at the 
Siege of Damvilliers, 6 

Blanc (Perrin), mentioned, 4 

Blanc (Pierre Le), Lord of La 
Roche, godfather of Louise 
de La Valliere, 3 

Blois (Castle of), inhabited by 
the La Valliere family ; 
sojourn of the Court in, 1659, 
39 ; the Duchesse d' Orleans 
leaves the Castle to live at the 
Luxembourg, 45 

Blois (Marie-Anne, Demoiselle 
de), daughter of La Valliere, 
her birth at the Castle of 
Vincennes, 188 ; legitimated, 
196; brought out in society, 
318 ; her education, 355 ; 
offered to the Prince of 
Orange, id. ; asked in mar- 
riage by the Prince de Conti, 
356 ; declared her brother's 
heiress, 365 ; attacked by 
smallpox, 369 ; her adven- 
turous conduct, 374 ; trans- 
mits to her cousin the 
estate of Vau jours, 374 

Boidrie (La). See Chalopin. 

Bois-le-Duc, 174 

Bois-ReimboWg (Manor of), be- 
longing to the Courtarvels, 
partially alienated, 21 

Boissiere (La), poisoner, 181 

BoiviN (Henry de). Lord of 
Vaudroy, Member of the 
Council for the guardianship 
of Louise, 57 

BossuET (Jacques-Benigne), 
preaches for the first time at 
the Chapel of the Louvre, 99 ; 
Archdeacon of Metz, his 
homage to Anne of Austria, 
171 ; sent for by the dying 



Madame, 265 ; Dauphin's 
tutor, 310 ; arranges with 
Mme de Montespan for La 
Valliere's retreat, 311 ; his 
part in the first rupture of 
the King with Mme de 
Montespan, 340 ; preaches at 
the ceremony of Sister 
Louise's profession, 341 

Boucher, surgeon, attends 
Louise in her accouchement, 
132; again, 150; attends 
her for the third time, 188 

BoURBGN (Louis, Due de), 
married to Mile de Nantes, 

367 

BouRDALOUE (Louis), Jesuit, 
his sermon on Impurity, 358 

BouRDELOT, physician, attri- 
butes the death of Madame 
to certain causes, 275 

BouRDONNEAU (Messire), chap- 
lain of Saint-Eustache in the 
church of Saint-Sauveur at 
Blois, lets a house to La 
Valliere's family, 20 

Bourgueil, place of Marechal de 
Belief onds' exile, 299 

BouTiER (La), poisoner, 232 

Bragelongne (Jacques De), 
steward of the House of Or- 
leans at Blois, 23 

Bvai (Passage of), 6 

Brancas (Suzanne Garnier, 
Dame De), makes advances 
to Louise, 141 

Brenne (the). River, 7 

Brebeuf, poet, 298 

Bretagne, King arranges trip to, 
in 1661, 81 

Briaucourt (Mme), her de- 
position in the Poison-Trials, 
183. 

Brienne (Lomenie de), orders 
given him by the King on 
the death of Mazarin, 49 ; 
suggests that Louise should 
be painted as Magdalen, 75 



Index 



391 



Brinvilliers (Marquise de), 
mentioned, 181 ; her trips to 
Villiers, 1 82 

Brion (Palais), bought for 
Louise, 131; she goes to live 
therein 1664, 150 ; attacked, 
156 

Brissac, Lieutenant of the 
Guards, 272 

Brossay (Charles du Mas, 
Marquis de), married to 
Marie- Yolande de La Val- 
lidre, 373 

Buckingham (Duke of), sent to 
Paris with the King of Eng- 
land's condolences on the 
death of Madame, 275 

BuEiL (Family of), origin of the 
Montalais girl, 89 

Buisson (Chapel), at Versailles, 
Guibourg officiates there, 
181 

Buisson (Du), surname of 
Lesage. See Lesage 

Burnet, Anglican doctor, 351 

BuscA, Officer of the Body- 
Guard, his quarrel at the 
Hotel Brion ; condemned to 
death, 138 

Bussy-Rabutin, author of the 
Histoire amoureuse des Gaules, 
sent to the Bastille, 158 ; 
confined in his Castle of 
Chaseu, 158 



Calais, King's illness there, 29 ; 

sojourn of the Court there in 

1670, 258 
Cantecroix (Princesse de), 

her idea of a marriage with 

Duke Charles IV. of Lorraine, 

114 
Carmelites of the Rue d'Enfer, 

La Valliere's request of them, 

308 
Carp (Colonel), Dutch, taken 



prisoner by the Marquis de 
La Vallidre, 174 

Carrieres (Baths of), belonging 
to La Valliere, 245 

Carrousel, given by the King in 
1662, 104 

Catinat (Georges), Lieutenant- 
General of Touraine, 1 1 

Cesar (Father), bare-foot Car- 
melite, confessor of La Val- 
liere, 299 

Cessac (Louis-Guillaume de 
Castelnau, Comte de Lo- 
deve. Marquis de), caught 
cheating at cards, 293 

Chaillot (Convent of the Filles 
de Sainte-Marie at), Mile de 
La Motte Argencourt's re- 
treat thither, 82 ; temporary 
retreat thither of Louise in 
1662, 90; she again retires 
thither, 284 

Chalopin (Julien), Lord of 
La Boidrie, 1 1 

Chamarante (Louis d'Ornai- 
son, Comte de), supposed 
lover of Mile de La Motte, 27 

Chambord (Castle of), sojourn of 
the King there in 1659, 39 ; 
sojourn of the Court there in 
1668, 230 

Chapelle, poisoner, 181 

Charleroi, subdued by Louis 
XIV., 207 

Charles, son of M. de Lin- 
court, ostensible name of 
Louise's first child, 132 

Charles II., King of England, 
58 ; Madame's negotiations 
with him, 261 

Charon (Jacques), Lord of 
Menars, father of Mme Col- 
bert, 130 

Chartres (Church of Notre- 
Dame at), the King makes a 
pilgrimage thither, 87 

Chaseu (Castle of), Bussy-Rabu- 
tin imprisoned there, 159 



392 



Index 



Chaussee (La), gardener to 
Mme da Brinvilliers at Vil- 
liers, 183 

Chevallier (Pierre), master- 
broker at Tours, 12 

Chevreuse (Duchesse de), re- 
ceives the Queen-mother at 
Dampierre with Madame, 65 

Chimerault (N. de Barbe- 
zieres, Demoiselle de Chemer- 
ault), selected to cover the 
King's intrigue with Madame, 
65 ; her pretended intrigue 
with the King, 66 ; figures 
in the ballet of Les Saisons, 

77 

Choiseul ( Cesar- Auguste de), 
marries Louise-Gabrielle de 
La Valliere, 372 

Choisy (Hurault de I'Hopital, 
Dame de Choisy), her birth, 
5 ; lives in the Luxembourg, 
54 ; presents La Valliere to 
Madame as Maid-of-Honour, 
5 5 ; her portrait, 5 5 ; brings 
forward Mile de Pousse, 175 

Choisy-sur-Seine, sojourn of the 
La Baume Le Blancs at, 4 

Chrysostome (Father P.), 
Madame 's confessor, 267 

Claire du Saint Sacrement 
(Mother), Prioress of the 
Carmelites, 327 

Clouet (Fran9ois), pictures at- 
tributed to him at the Manor 
of La Vallidre, 9 

CoETLOGON (Mile de), declares 
herself implicated in the 
intrigue between Guiche and 
Madame, 104 ; figures in 
the ballet of Les Amours 
De guises, 138 

Colbert (Jean-Baptiste), Lord 
of Seignelay, " servant of 
Cardinal Mazarin," 34 ; 
studies the King, 78 ; en- 
trusted by the King with his 
letters for Louise, 1 30 ; takes 



charge of Louise's new-born 
child, 1 50 ; opposes military 
expenditure, 195 ; under- 
takes the acquisition of Vau- 
jours estate, 199 ; money re- 
mitted by him to La Valliere, 
244 ; his good offices to- 
wards Lauzun, 278 ; sent to 
the Convent at Chaillot to 
fetch Louise back, 286 ; 
manages the financial affairs 
of La Valliere's children, 307; 
requests the King to autho- 
rise him to pay La Valliere's 
debts, 321 

Colbert (Mme), her family, 
130 ; takes charge of La 
Valliere's daughter, 206 ; pre- 
pares Mile de Blois for her 
debut in society, 318 ; her 
death, 359 

Colombes, sojourn of Monsieur 
and Madame at, in 1661, 
63 

CoLONNA (Constable), marries 
Marie Mancini, 47 

CoLONNA (Marie Mancini, Con- 
stabless), second niece of 
Mazarin, admired by the 
King, 30 ; her portrait, 30 ; 
intervenes to cause the 
King to abandon marriage- 
project with the Princess of 
Savoy, 35 ; King's passion 
for her, 35 ; her plan of get- 
ting him to marry her, 37 ; 
her Memoirs, 38 ; sees the 
King again at St. Jean- 
d'Angely, 40 ; living at the 
Louvre after the King's mar- 
riage, 46 ; her intrigue with 
Charles of Lorraine, 47 ; 
marries the Constable Colon- 
na, 47 ; goes to Rome, 
94 ; disembarks in Provence 
with her sister Hortense, 292 ; 
shut up, by order of Marie- 
Therdse in the Abbey of 



Index 



393 



Lys, 293 ; exiled to Reims ; 
her end, 293 

ComSdie-Francaise, perform- 
ance given at Fontainebleau 
in 1661, 62 

CoNDE (Louis de Bourbon, 
Prince de), " le Grand 
Conde," opposed to the mar- 
riage of Mademoiselle, 279 

CoNTi (Armand de Bourbon, 
Prince de), asks for hand of 
Mile de Blois, 356 ; goes to 
the war on the Danube, 366 ; 
pardoned by the King, 369 ; 
dies of smallpox, 369 

CoNTi (Princesse de). See 
Blois (Marie-Anne, Demoi- 
selle de). 

CoQUAULT (Oudart), native of 
Reims, 161 

Corneille (P.), produces Le 
Toison d'Or, played at 
Monsieur's, 88 

CosNAC (Daniel de). Bishop of 
Valence, celebrates the be- 
trothal of Mile d'Artigny, 

165 

CoTARDAis (Gabrielle Gle de 
La). See Valliere (Mar- 
quise DE La) 

Cote (Manor of), at Reugny, 

7 

CouDRAY (Mile de), entrusted 
with bringing-up of Philippe, 
La Valliere 's second child, 
in 1664, 150 

CouLDREAU (Andre), Lord of 
Planchevin, 1 2 

Courtrai (Conference of), 360 

CouTELAYE (Fran§oise Le Pro- 
vost DE La). See Provost 
(Le) 

CoYPEL (Antoine), engraves la 
Voisin's portrait, 154 

Crequi (Charles III., Due de), 
mentioned, 298 

Crespin (Maitre), Notary, 221 

Crouzille (Hotel de la), at 



Tours, Louise de La Valliere 's 
birthplace, 3 

D 

Dampierre, sojourn of Anne of 
Austria and Madame at, 65 

Damville (Due). See Brion 

DamvilUers (Siege of), 6 

Dandin (Thomas), priest, 315 

Dangeau, said to have helped 
the King and Louise in their 
amatory correspondence, 
116; author of a ballet 
played in 1666, 164 

Derssy (Franfois), declared 
the father of Philippe, 
Louise's second child, 151 

Desmarets (La), poisoner, 182 

Desceillets (Mile), lady's- 
maid to Mme de Montes- 
pan, 182 

Dijon, sojourn of the King at, 
in 1659, 33 

Dodart (Denis), physician to 
the Princesse de Conti, 374 

Douai, conquered by the King, 
212 

Dubois, painter, his pictures 
at Fontainebleau, 75 

Dunes (Battle of Les), won by 
Louis XIV., 29 

Dunkirk, besieged by Louis 
XIV, 's troops, 29 



Effiat (Antoine Coiffier, Mar- 
quis d'), receives the poison 
intended for Madame, 273 ; 
caught meddling with 
^ Madame's goblet, 273 

Elide {Princesse d'), produced 
by Moliere, 140 

Enghien (Henry-Jules de 
Bourbon, Due d'), gives an 
entertainment at Fontaine- 
bleau, 62) 



394 



Index 



Entragues (Mme d'), 373 

Esprit (M.), physician, called 
in to Madame, 262 

EsTRADES (Godefroi, Marechal 
d'), Ambassador at The 
Hague, the King orders him 
to observe closely the move- 
ments of MM. de Monaco and 
de Guiche, 174 

EvRARD (Michel d'), Captain of 
Light Horse, husband of 
Louise de La Baume Le 
Blanc, 4 



Faremoustiers (Abbey of), 373 
Fayette (Marie-Madeleine 
Pioche de la Vergne, Mar- 
quise DE La), confidant of 
Madame, 361 
Febvre (Le), painter, 75 
Fere [la), the Queen stops there 
on her way to Avesnes, 208 
Ferte (Madeleine d'Angennes, 
Marechale de La), supposed 
to be the mother of a son of 
the Comte de Saint-Pol, 

314 
Feuillet (Canon), assists 

Madame, 267 
Filastre, or Filhastre (Fran- 

9oise), poisoner, accomplice 

of Guibourg, 181 
FioT, King's Almoner, 195 
Flechier, preaches Mme de 

Montausier's funeral-sermon, 

292 
Fleury (Abbe), Vermandois' 

tutor, 360 
Fontainehleau, sojourn of the 

Court at, in 1659, 32 ; in 

1 66 1, 60 ; the King gives 

entertainments there in 166 1, 

in honour of Madame, 62 ; the 

King's apartments there in 

1661, 70 
Fontanges (Marie-Angelique 



de Scoraille de Roussille, 
Demoiselle de), admired by 
the King, 357 
Fontevrault (Abbey of), the 
Montalais girl shut up there, 

lOI 

FoucQUET (Madeleine), Dame 
de 1' Armor (branch of the 
Foucquets of Brittany), wife 
of the Marechal de Belle- 
fonds, 297 

FoucQUET (Nicolas), Superin- 
tendent of Finances. King's 
orders to him on Mazarin's 
death, 49 ; letter found in 
his casket, 64 ; his conduct 
towards Louise, 78 ; at- 
tacked by malaria, 79 ; tries 
to court La Valliere, 79 ; 
offers her money, 80 ; the 
king decides upon his ruin, 
81 ; arrested, 81 ; his con- 
demnation, 150 

FouiLLOux (Benigne de Meaux 
duFouilloux, Dawe d' Alluye), 
her reports to Foucquet on 
Louise, 80 ; mixed up in 
La Motte intrigue, 108 ; be- 
comes Dame d' Alluye, 1 56 ; 
flies with Mme de Soissons, 
156 ; accompanies her to la 
Voisin's den, 156 

Franche-Comte (Campaign in), 
221 

Frementeau, composer of the 
music of a ballet played in 
1666, 164 

Friche (Jean). See Cesar 
(Father) 

Fromentieres (Mgr de), (Jean 
Louis de). Bishop of Aire, 
preaches the sermon at 
Louise's taking of the veil, 

333 
Fuensaldagne (Comte de), 
Spanish Ambassador, ex- 
pelled by order of the King, 
85 



Index 



395 



Gamaches (Mme de), 262 

Garneau, Celestin monk, po- 
tion invented by him for 
sick King, 31 

Gasserie (Jean Le Blanc, 
Lord of la), 5 

Gaviria (Don Christobal de), 
Spanish Ambassador, 91 ; 
his departure, 97 

Genitoy {le). Marquise de Monte- 
span retires thither during 
her pregnancy, 295 

Gle (Gabrielle Gle de La Co- 
tardais). See Valliere 
(Marquise de La) 

Grammont (Antoine III., Mare- 
chal de), takes King's pro- 
posal for marriage to the 
Court of Spain, 41 ; with 
Madame when dying, 266 

Grammont (PhUibert, Cheva- 
lier, then Comte de), makes 
advances to Mile de La Motte- 
Houdancourt, 106 ; is 
exiled, 107 

Grignan (Mme de), solicits 
Mme de Montespan's friends, 

304 

Grimoard. See Polignac 
(Mme de) 

Gueslin, physician, attends 
Madame, 264 

GuiBOURG (Etienne), priest. 
Almoner to M. de Mont- 

> gommery, at Villebousin, 
183 ; his sorceries, id. ; sur- 
named The Prior, id. ; says 
the Black Mass for Mme de 
Montespan, 184 

GuiCHE ( Armand de Grammont, 
Comte de), his dismissal, 
66 ; his attitude towards 
Louise, 68 ; his courtship of 
her, j6 ; his attitude to- 
wards Madame, jy ; exiled, 
yy ', his letters to Madame, 



86 ; mixed up in affair of 
anonymous letter against 
Louise, 97 ; exiled, 103 ; 
denounced by the Comtesse 
de Soissons, 153 ; exiled to 
Holland, 1 54 ; his farewell 
to Madame, 157 ; serves 
with French troops against 
the Bishop of Munster, 173 ; 
death at Kreutznach, 307 
GuiLLOis (Michel), Judge, 57 
Guise, the Court sleeps there, 
on the way to Avesnes, 209 
GouRDON (Mme de), 262 
GURY FoucART, godfather of 
Louise's first child, 132 

H 

Hautefeuille (Germain 

Texier d'). Baron of Mali- 
corne, marries Catherine de 
Saint- Remi, 114; remarries, 
Fran9oise de Medavy de 
Grancey, 114 

Hautefeuille (Mme d'). See 
Saint-Remi (Catherine de) 

Ha ye (La), wife of Madame 
d'Orleans' apothecary, 113 

Henriette de France, Queen- 
Dowager of England, re- 
ceived by the King at Ver- 
sailles, 164 

Heudicourt (Bonne de Pons, 
Marquise d'). See Pons 

HiLLiERE (Chevalier de La). 
See Ilhiere (La) 

Histoire amoureuse des Gaules 
appears, 158 

Histoire du comte de Guiche, 
pamphlet, 159 

Hopital (Jacques de L'), 
Comte de Choisy, second 
husband of Frangoise Le 
Picart, 5 

HuMiERES (Louis de Crevant, 
Marechal d'), sent to the 
Spanish Netherlands, 360 



39^ 



Index 



Ilhiere (Jean-Fran9ois de Pol- 
[ astron, Chevalier de La), 
I Lieutenant in the Guards, 

259 
I lie en Roussillon, 288 

J 

Jeanne-Baptiste, legitimated 
of France, daughter of 
Henri IV., Abbess of Fon- 
tevrault, no 

JoLi DE Fleuri, Attorney- 
General, transmits the story 
of the King's interrogation 
of Madame 's maitre d'hotel, 

273 
JoUBERT {Fran9ois), Lord of 
la Borde, 12 



La Baume Le Blanc. See 
Blanc 

Lambert, appointed Master of 
the King's Music, 62 

Lambert (Jean), Judge of the 
Bailiwick and Bench of 
Blois, sells a ground-rent of 
the Manor of Rameau, 21 

Lamboi, General on the Day 
of Avein, 6 

Landrecies, the Court spends 
a night at, 257 

Lassay (Marie-Anne-Franfoise 
Pajot, Marquise de). See 
Pa JOT 

Latines, Camp at, 340 

Lauzun (Antoine-Nompar de 
Caumont, Comte, later 
Due de), comes to Court 
under the name of Marquis 
de Puyguilhem ; his por- 
trait, 162 ; cousin of Mme 
de Monaco, id. ; imprisoned 
in Bastille, id. ; his brutality 



to Mme de Monaco, 172 ; 
loved by Mademoiselle, 256 ; 
rumour of his marrying La 
Vallidre, 257 ; entertains the 
Duke of Buckingham, 275 ; 
his attitude towards the 
project of Monsieur's marry- 
ing Mademoiselle de Mont- 
pensier, 276 ; approaches 
Mme de Montespan, 277 ; 
appointed General of the 
Army, 279 ; sent by the 
King to the Convent at 
Chaillot to bring back La 
Vallidre, 285 ; leaves prison, 
362 

La Valliere. See Valliere 

Lemoyne (Father), 377 

Lerida (Siege of), 6 

Leroux, poisoner, mistress of 
Mariette, 181 

Lesage, poisoner, 181 ; brings 
Mme de Montespan to his 
house, 218; arrested, 224; 
condemned to the galleys, 
232 

Lesdiguieres, brought up 
with the King, 76 

Lely, English painter, 262 

Limosin (Laurent), and his 
son Louis, 133 

LiNCOURT (M. de), 132 

Longueville (Due de), woos 
Mme de Montespan, 178 

Longueville (Mme de), her 
conversion, 86 ; retires to 
the Carmelites, 86 ; asks for 
the legitimation of a natural 
child of her son, 314 

Lorraine (Charles de), goes 
to the Court of Blois in 1659, 
44 ; his passion for Mile de 
Rare, 44 ; his intrigue with 
Marie Mancini, 47 ; Made- 
moiselle thinks of him as a 
husband, 50 ; he proposes to 
Mademoiselle, 5 1 

Lorraine (Charles IV., Duo 



Index 



397 



de), signs the Treaty of 
Montmartre, 1 1 1 ; tries to 
marry Marianne Pajot, iii ; 
lodges with the gardener of 

1 the Luxembourg, 113; pro- 
poses to Catherine de Saint- 
Remi, 113 

Lorraine (Philippe, Chevalier 
de), woos one of Madame's 
Maids-of- Honour, 152; his 
quarrel with the Marquis de 
La Valliere, 168 ; the object 
of a negotiation of Madame 
with Charles II., 261 ; ac- 
cused of having poisoned 
Madame, 273 ; his influence 
on the Comte de Verman- 
dois, 359 

Lorraine (Francois de), ap- 
proves of the project of 
his brother's marriage with 
Marianne Pajot, iii 

Lorraine (Henriette de), fes- 
tivity after her wedding, 282 

Lorraine (Marguerite de), se- 
cond wife of Gaston d' Or- 
leans, her sojourn at Blois, 
21 ; widow, called Madame- 
Do wager, 45 ; goes to live 
at the Luxembourg, 40 ; 
her death, 292 

Louis XIV., majority declared, 
9 ; his campaign against the 
Fronde at Amboise and Blois, 
9 ; his portrait at nineteen, 
24 ; his love for Olympe 
Mancini, 25 ; at the Siege of 
Montmedy, 26 ; goes to the 
Siege of Dunkirk, wins the 
'Battle of Les Dunes, 29 ; 
attack of fever at Mardick, 
29 ; his interview with 
Marguerite de Savoie at 
Lyons, 34 ; gives up Marie 
Mancini, 41 ; writes to the 
Infanta Marie-Therese, 41 ; 
married, 41 ; orders to his 
Ministers on the death of Maz- 



arin, 49 ; his attitude towards 
Madame, 61 ; gossip about 
his attachment to Madame, 
63 ; subterfuge to shelter 
Madame, 65 ; his poi"trait in 
1 66 1, 68 ; his dawning love 
for Louise, 69 ; receives 
Louise in Saint-Aignan's 
room, 72 ; breaks off his 
religious duties, 72 ; his con- 
versation with Brienne about 
Louise, 75 ; decides upon 
Foucquet's ruin, 81 ; his 
anger with the King of Spain, 

84 ; his reproaches to Marie- 
Therese, 85 ; his conduct at 
the birth of the Dauphin, 

85 ; his pilgrimage to 
Chartres, 87 ; his visits to the 
Tuileries, 87 ; his growing 
passion ; he orders Louise 
to stay in her apartments, 
89 ; forbids Louise to speak 
to the Montalais girl, 89 ; 
his quarrel with Louise, 90 ; 
hastens to find Louise at the 
Convent at Chaillot, 91 ; his 
dif&culties in getting her 
back to the Tuileries, 92 ; 
is present at Bossuet's first 
sermon in the Louvre Chapel, 
99 ; hears of the anonymous 
letter to the Queen about 
Louise, 98 ; gives the F6te 
du Carrousel in 1662, 104 ; 
his intrigue with Mile de La 
Motte-Houdancourt at Saint- 
Germain (in 1662), 106 ; 
Vallot advises him to take 
more sleep, 109 ; he im- 
plores Louise's pardon after 
the La Motte intrigue, 114 ; 
his numerous excursions to 
Versailles with Louise, 115; 
his correspondence with 
Louise, 115 ; father of a 
Princess, Anne-Elisabeth, 
117 ; his policy, his physical 



398 



Index 



qualities in 1663, 120 ; gets 
the measles, 123 ; leaves for 
Marsal, 130 ; gives Louise 
the Palais Brion, 131 ; his 
arrangements to receive 
Louise at Court, 141 ; re- 
fuses to perform his religious 
duties at Pentecost, (1664), 
143; asks pardon of the 
Queen-mother, 143 ; father 
of a little daughter, Marie- 
Anne, in 1664, 147 ; his 
intrigue with Mme de Mon- 
aco, 162; height of his passion 
for Louise (1666), 165 ; first 
symptoms of waning love (in 
1666), 169 ; reorganises his 
army, 191 ; resumes his 
religious duties in 1667, 195 ; 
makes La Valliere a Duchess, 
196 ; prepares to set ofi for 
camp, 201 ; the campaign ; 
reduces Charleroi and several 
other places, 207 ; summons 
the Court to Avesnes, 207 ; 
goes back to Charleroi, 210 ; 
master of Tournai and Douai, 
212 ; returns to Compiegne, 
212 ; prepares for Siege of 
Lille, 213 ; sends the Court 
to Arras, 213 ; returns to 
Saint-Germain after the cam- 
paign, 214 ; the campaign 
in Franche-Comte, 221 ; gives 
great entertainments at Ver- 
sailles, 225 ; confesses to La 
Valliere his love for the 
Montespan, 233 ; begs Mme 
Scarron to take charge of the 
Montespan's children, 239 ; 
his designs on Holland, 259 ; 
with Madame at her death, 
265 ; his part in the enter- 
tainment given by Lauzun 
to the Duke of Bucking- 
ham, 275 ; authorises Made- 
moiselle's marriage with 
Lauzun, 276 ; takes back his 



authorisation, 280 ; takes La 
Valliere away from Convent 
at ChaUlot, 286 ; prepares 
for campaign in Flanders, 

287 ; legitimates his children 
by Mme de Montespan, 313; 
his reverses in 1673, abandons 
Holland, 318 ; La Valliere 
comes to say good-bye, 327 ; 
his rupture with Mme de 
Montespan, 339 ; com- 
municates, 340 ; arranges 
Mme de Blois'. fortune, 355 ; 
marries Mme de Maintenon, 
367 ; hears of the death of 
Sister Louise, 385 

Louis-AuGUSTE, son of the 
King and Mme de Monte- 
span, 314 . See Maine (Due 

DU) 

Louise-Fraijcoise, daughter 
of the King and Mme 
de Montespan, 315. See 
Nantes (Mile de) 

LouviGNY (Comte de), at Am- 
sterdam, 173 

Louvois, War Minister, old 
schoolfellow of the Marquis 
de La Valliere, 1 74 ; his an- 
tipathy for Lauzun, 278 ; 
prepares for the Court's 
accommodation at Dunkirk, 

288 ; orders Marshals de 
Bellefonds and de Crequi to 
serve under Turenne's orders, 
298 

LoY (La), Foucquet's spy, 65 ; 

her reports to Foucquet on 

Louise, 80 
LuDE (Mile Du), admired by 

the King, 357 
LuDE (Henry de Daillon, 

Comte DU), Mme de Polig- 

nac's friend, 180 
LuLLi (Baptiste), receives his 

brevet as Superintendent of 

the King's Music, 62 
Luxembourg (Palace of the), 



Index 



399 



called ■' Palais d' Orleans " ; 

sojourn of Madame-Dowager 

at, 45 
LuYNEs (Due de), his daughter 

marries the Marquis de 

Cessac, 293 
Luzerne (Gabriel de Brique- 

ville. Marquis de la), 

Governor to Vermandois, 362 
Lyons, King's journey there to 

meet Marguerite de Savoie, 

Lys (Monastery of), near Melun, 
Marie Mancini shut up there, 
293 



M 

Maine (Duo du), 315 

Maintenon (Frangoise d'Au- 
bigne. Marquise de), wife of 
the poet Scarron, 19 ; is 
present at the Queen's entry 
into Paris, 46 ; widowed, lives 
on a pension from the Queen- 
mother, 127 ; asked to take 
charge of Mme de Montespan's 
children, 239 ; goes to live 
in the Rue de Vaugirard, 
240 ; receives the first adul- 
terous child of Mme de Mon- 
tespan, 277 ; her opposition 
to the Lauzun marriage, 279 ; 
accompanies the Montespan 
to Genitoy, 295 ; then to 
Tournai, 303 ; sent to La 
Valliere by Mme de Montes- 
pan to persuade her to give 
up idea of convent -life, 311; 
the King has the estate of 
Maintenon bought for her, 
339 ; married to Louis XIV., 

367 
Malicorne (Germain Texier 

d'Hautefeuille, Baron de). 

See Hautefeuille 
Mancini (Hortense), Duchesse 



Mazarine, married to M. de 
La MeUleraye, 94 ; lands in 
Provence, 292 

Mancini (Laure), Duchesse de 
Vendome et de Mercoeur. 
See that name. 

Mancini (Marie). See Colonna 
(Constabless) 

Mancini (Olympe). See Sois- 
sons (Comtesse de) 

Marans (Frangoise-Charlotte 
de Montalais, Comtesse de), 
sister of the Montalais girl, 
her piety praised by Mme de 
Sevigne, 312 

Mardik (Fort of). The King 
gets fever there, 29 

Marianne, 33 

Marie-Anne, daughter of 
Marie-Therdse, 147 

Marie-Anne, daughter of La 
Valliere, called Mile de Blois. 
See that name, 

Marie-Therese, Infanta of 
Spain, talk of her marriage 
with Louis XIV., 29 ; the 
King writes to her about it, 
41 ; married, 42 ; her entry 
into Paris, 45 ; beginning of 
her jealousy, 64 ; pregnant, 
85 ; bears a son, 85 ; anony- 
mous letter to her denounc- 
ing Louise, 96 ; gives birth to 
a Princess, Anne-Elisabeth, 
117; hears of the King's love 
for Louise, 126 ; learns from 
Mme deSoissonsof the King's 
love-aflEairs, 127 ; bears a 
daughter, Marie- Anne, 147 ; 
recovers her health, 149 ; sees 
La Valliere, 167 ; pregnant, 
194 ; her kindness to La Val- 
liere, 201 ; leaves Compiegne 
to rejoin the King at Avesnes, 
stops at la Fere, 208 ; receives 
a letter telling her of the 
King's love for the Mon- 
tespan, 213 ; accompanies the 



400 



Index 



king to Flanders, 213 ; op- 
posed to Mademoiselle's mar- 
riage, 279 ; gives orders to 
arrest Marie Mancini, 293 ; in- 
stalled at Tournai, 302 ; par- 
dons La Valli^re, 326 ; pays 
a visit to the Carmelites, 
336 ; presents the black veil 
for Louise, 346 ; takes Mme 
de Montespan to visit the 
Carmelites, 350 ; goes to see 
Louise with the Marquis de 
La ValMre, 352 

Mariette (Frangois), priest of 
Saint-Severin, accomplice of 
la Voisin, 181 ; his impious 
Masses, 219 ; arrested, 224 ; 
banished, 231 

Marot (Jean), Architect to the 
King, 241 

May sal (Siege of), 129 

Marsan (M. de), (Charles de 
Lorraine-Armagnac, Comte 
de), his influence on the 
Comte de Vermandois, 359 

Marse (Marie d'Apelvoisin, 
Baronne de Marce, 1677, or 
Claude-Henriette de la Musse, 
married in 1678), sits at the 
Royal Table at Versailles, 140 

Mascarade royale (Ballet of Le), 
danced in 1668, 220 

Mauroi (Elizabeth Martin de), 
mother of Fran9oise Le 
Provost, 10 

Mazarin (Cardinal), his insin- 
uations about Mile de La 
Motte-Argencourt, 27 ; sum- 
moned by the sick King to 
Calais, 29 ; his hostility 
against the Princess Henri- 
etta of England, 32 ; opposes 
the King's marriage to his 
niece, 36 ; marries her to the 
Constable Colonna, 47 ; his 
attitude towards Marie- 
Therese, 47 ; his death, 49 

Mazarin (the nieces of), re- 



ceived at the Palais-Royal, 

25 

Mazolas, successor of Loret, 
229 

Medavy de Orangey (Fran- 
goise de), second wife of 
Germain Texier d'Haute- 
feuille, 114 

Meilleraye (Armand Charles 
de la Porte, Marquis de la 
Meilleraye) Due Mazarin in 
December 1663, husband of 
Hortense Mancini, 94 ; gives 
the King a lecture upon his 
liaison with Louise ; retires 
from Court, 149 

Menars. See Charon 

Menneville (<3atherine. De- 
moiselle de), points out Fouc- 
quet's advances to Louise, 80 

Mercceur (Laure Mancini, 
Duchesse de Vendome et de) 
Mazarin's niece, sister of 
Olympe Mancini, 25 

Mercy (Page), Prince de Conti's 
courier, arrested andsearched, 
366 

Mesme (President de), hushes 
up the first Lesage and Mari- 
ette inquiry, 232 

Mesnil (Hanilet of), near Ville- 
bousin, house of Le Roy's 
there, 183 

MiGNARD (Pierre), his portraits 
of La Valliere and her chil- 
dren, 320 

MoLiERE, produces La Princesse 
d' Elide, 140 ; Amphitryon, 
220 ; Georges Dandin, 225 

Molina (Dona), receives the 
anonymous letter from 
Vardes, 98 

Monaco (Catherine-Charlotte 
de Grammont, Princesse de), 
at Court, 162 ; Lauzun's 
brutality to her, 172 ; goes to 
la Voisin, 179 

Monaco (Prince de), goes to 



Index 



401 



Holland to consult Guiche 
about the Lauzun incident, 
172 ; his anger appeased by 
d'Estrades, 174 

Monsieur, uncle of the King. 
See Orleans (Gaston d') 

Montagu (Lord), English Am- 
bassador, with the dying 
Madame, 268 

Montalais (Anne-Constance 
de), companion of the Prin- 
cesses of Orleans at Blois, 22 ; 
Maid-of-Honour, companion 
of Louise, 60 ; go-between 
for Comte de Guiche with 
Madame, 86 ; installed with 
Louise, 89 ; exiled, 103 ; 
writes again to La Valli^re, 
109 ; shut up at Fontevrault, 
no; correspondence with 
Madame, 152 

Montalais (Frangoise de). 
See Marans 

Montausier (Charles de Sainte- 
Maure, Marquis de), ap- 
pointed Governor to the 
Dauphin, 228 

Montausier (Julie d' Angennes, 
Duchesse de), replaces the 
Duchesse de Navailles, 143 ; 
letter to her from La Val- 
liere, 202 ; with the Queen at 
la Fere, 208 ; accused of help- 
ing on Montespan-affair 
with the King, 214 ; her atti- 
tude, 222 ; accused by the 
Marquis de Montespan, 227 ; 
her death, 291 

Montchevreuil (Henri de 
Mornay, Marquis de), ap- 
pointed to look after Ver- 
mandois in camp, 361 

Montespan ( Athenais de Morte- 
mart, Demoiselle de Tonnay- 
Charente, Marquise de), pre- 
sent at the d'Artigny marri- 
age, 166 ; goes to live with 
La Valliere at Versailles, 1 76 ; 



her family, id. ; appears at 
Court in 1661, id. ; married 
to the Marquis de Montespan, 
177 ; goes to la Voisin, 179 ; 
her part in the Black Mass, 
183 ; Court-eulogy of her, 
186 ; appears in the ballet of 
Les Muses, 193 ; her remarks 
against La Valliere, 209 ; 
Mademoiselle's comments on 
them Apropos the journey 
to Avesnes, 210 ; stays at 
Compiegne with the Court, 
212 ; goes to Lesage's house, 
218 ; contracts a loan con- 
jointly with her husband, 
221 ; mistress of the King, 
pregnant, 232 ; her husband 
celebrates her obsequies, 237; 
petition for divorce brought 
against her husband, 237 ; 
signs a contract with La 
Valliere for the building of 
grottoes, 241 ; receives all the 
homage at Court, 255 ; her 
part in an entertainment 
given by Lauzun to the Duke 
of Buckingham, 275 ; soli- 
cited by Mademoiselle, 279 ; 
presents a petition for di- 
vorce (1670), 289 ; pregnant, 
(1672), 295 ; is sent to 
Genitoy, id. ; her pregnancy 
at Tournai, 303 ; at the height 
of her power, 304 ; notices 
Mme Scarron's familiarities 
with the King, 339 ; com- 
municates, 340 ; her children 
by the King, 314; her children 
legitimated, 315; her attitude 
during a visit to the Carme- 
lites, 246 ; her return to 
Court, 357 ; disgraced, comes 
to visit La Valliere, 375 
Montespan (Marquis de), 
marries Athenais de Tonnay- 
Charente, 177 ; his jealousy, 
226 ; arrested, then set at 

26 



402 



Index 



liberty, 230 ; celebrates obse- 
quies of his wife, 238 ; petition 
for divorce brought against 
him, 237 ; accusations against 
him at Roussillon, 288 ; flies to 
Spain, 289 ; asks to be allowed 
to return to France, 316 ; 
acquiesces in divorce, 317 

MoNTiGNY (Marie de), Com- 
tesse de Beaufort, 124 

Montmartre, (Treaty of), signed 
by Charles IV. of Lorraine, 
III 

Montmedy (Siege of), the King 
present at, 26 

MoNTPENSiER (Annc-Maric- 
Louise d'Orleans, Duchesse 
de), called La Grande Made- 
moiselle, daughter of Gaston 
d'Orleans by his first marri- 
age, hopes to marry the King, 
10 ; her attempt against 
Amboise, 10 ; mentioned, 22 ; 
organises balls at the Luxem- 
bourg, 49 ; thinks of marry- 
ing Charles of Lorraine, 50 ; 
goes to the Court at Fon- 
tainebleau, in 1661, 62 ; 
suspected, on the insinuation 
of Vardes, of being the writer 
of the anonymous letter, 98 ; 
dismisses Claude Pa jot, her 
apothecary, 112; her desire 
to be married, 256 ; loves 
Lauzun, id. ; her jealousy of 
La Valliere, 257 ; the King 
speaks to her of a marriage 
with Monsieur, 276 ; idea 
of her marriage with Lauzun, 
277 ; comes to say adieu to 
La Vallidre at Mme de Mon- 
tespan's, 328 

MoNVOisiN (Catherine). See 
VoisiN 

MoRTEMART (Athenais de). 
See MoNTESPAN (Mme de) 

Mortem ART (M. de), father of 
the Marquise de Montespan, 



177 ; sells his post as First 
Gentleman of the Bedcham- 
ber, 240 

Motte-Argencourt (Mile de 
La), admired by the King, 
26 ; figures in the ballet of 
Les Saisons, in 1661, yy ; 
dismissed from Court by 
Anne of Austria ; enters a 
convent at Chaillot, 82 

Motte-Houdancourt (Anne- 
Lucie DE La), authors confuse 
her with Mile de La Motte- 
Argencourt, 27 ; tool of the 
Comtesse de Soissons in an 
intrigue with the King, 105 ; 
her intrigue with the King, 
demands the dismissal of 
Louise, her true part in 
intrigue unmasked, marries 
the Marquis de La Vieuville, 
108 

Motte-Houdancourt (Fran- 
goise-Angelique de La), 
daughter of the Marshal, 
confused with Anne-Lucie de 
La Motte-Houdancourt, 105 

MoTTEViLLE (Mme de), the 
Queen's speech to her about 
Louise, 126 

MoucHY (Father de), keeps 
vigil by the dead Due d'Or- 
leans, 44 

Mouchy, the Court goes there in 
1666, 171 

Munster (Peace with Bishop 
of), 174 

Muses (ballet of Les), danced 
at Paris in 1667, 192 

N 

Nantes (Demoiselle de), daugh- 
ter of the King and Mme de 
Montespan, 316; married to 
Louis, Due de Bourbon, 367 

Nantes, King's journey there in 
1661, 81 



Index 



403 



Navailles (Philippe de Mont- 
ault, Due and Marechal de), 
annoyed by the Comte de 
Soissons, 95 ; his dignified 
attitude towards the King ; 
the King orders both him 
and the Duchess to sell their 
posts, 142 

Navailles (Suzanne de Beau- 
dean, Duclxesse and Marechale 
de), head of Queen's House- 
hold, 55 ; Vardes' hints to the 
King of her complicity in the 
anonymous letter-aflfair, 98 ; 
her portrait, 107 ; falsely de- 
nounced by the Comtesse de 
Soissons, 129 

NSgron (Parish of), sojourn of 
the poet Scarron in, 18 

Nevers (M. de), marries Mile 
de Thianges, 277 

NocRET paints Louise's por- 
trait for Versailles, 115 ; 
paints Madame's portrait, 
267 

NoiRMOUTiERS (Marquis de), 
89 

Notre-Dame de Liesse, La Val- 
liere and the Montespan wor- 
ship there together, 211 

Noyon, sojourn of the Court at, 
in 1670, 257 

O 

Oradour (M. d'), friend of 
Mme de Polignac, 171 

Orange (Prince d'), is offered 
Mile de Blois, 355 

Orleans (Anne-Marie-Louise 
d'), Duchesse de Montpen- 
sier, called Mademoiselle. 
See Montpensier (Mile de). 

Orleans (Chevalier d'), legiti- 
mated, 314 

Orleans (Dowager Duchesse 
d'). See Lorraine (Mar- 
guerite de). 



Orleans (Gaston d'), uncle of 
the King, called Monsieur, 
head of the Fronde, 9 ; his 
retirement to Blois, 20 ; re- 
married to Marguerite de 
Lorraine, 21 ; receives the 
King at Blois in 1659, 40 ; 
his death in x66o, 44 

Orleans (Henrietta of Eng- 
land, Duchesse d'). See 
Angleterre (Henriette d') 

Orleans (Marguerite d'), 
daughter of Gaston, uncle of 
the King, called the Little 
Queen, 22 ; goes to Saint- 
Jean-de-Luz for King's 
marriage, 45 ; admired by 
Charles of Lorraine, 50 ; 
marries the Duke of Tuscany, 
51 ; goes to Court at Fontaine- 
bleau, 62 ; goes to visit Sister 
Louise, 351 

Orleans (Palace of), name given 
to the Luxembourg, 45 

Orleans (Philippe, Due d'), 
brother of the King, called 
Monsieur, 24 ; his marriage 
with Henrietta of England, 
53, 58 ; told of Guiehe's in- 
trigue with Madame, 103 ; 
entertains the King at the 
Palais-Royal, 165 ; his atti- 
tude at Madame's death, 
263 ; innocent of the poison- 
ing of Madame, 268 ; his dis- 
like to the match with Mile 
de Montpensier, 277 

Orleans (Princesses d'), leave 
for Saint-Jean-de-Luz, 45 

Ostend (Siege of), 6 

Oudenborch (Cemetery of), near 
Bois-le-Duc, attacked by 
French troops, 174 



Pajgt (Claude), Mile de Mont- 
pensier's apothecary, 1 1 1 



404 



Index 



Pajot (Marie- Anne-Frangoise), 
Due de Lorraine pays her 
attention, 52 ; her mar- 
riage with him abandoned, 
III ; shut up at For- 
I'Eveque, 112 ; becomes 
Marquise de Lassay, 112 

Palais-Royal (Le), pamphlet, 

159 

Palatine (Anne de Gonzague 
de Cleves, Princess), wife of 
Edward of Bavaria, son of 
the Elector Palatine ; Super- 
intendent of the Queen's 
Household ; Mazarin forces 
her to relinquish her post, 48 

Palatine (Elizabeth of Ba- 
varia, Princess), second wife 
of the Due d' Orleans, her 
questioning of La Valliere, 
253 ; her account of Madame's 
death, 273 ; brings the Comte 
de Vermandois to the Car- 
melite Convent, 352 

Paris, Marie-Therese's entry 
into, 45 

Peniceau (Jean), tutor of 
Jean-Frangois de La Valliere, 

14 

Perigny (President de), 
author of the ballet Les 
Amours deguises, 138 

Philibert (La), or Philbert, 
poisoner, 217 

PiCARD, portrait of Mme de 
Montespan engraved by him, 
179 

PicART (Fran9oise Le), mother 
of Fran9oise de Beauvau, 5 

Pinon (Castle of), in Picardy, 
179 

PiROT (Abbe), of&ciates at La 
Valliere's taking of the veil, 
333 ; says Mass at her pro- 
fession, 341 ; performs last 
of&ces for Sister Louise, 

384 
Plessis (Mile du), confidential 



maid chosen by Colbert for 
Louise, 131 

Poland (Queen of), her corre- 
spondence with Mme de 
Choisy, 54 

PoLiGNAC (Jacqueline de Beau- 
voir de Grimoard du Roure, 
Dame de), goes to la Voisin, 
179 ; continuation of her 
sorceries against La Valliere, 
224 

PoMMiER (Gatien), Royal No- 
tary at Reugny, 12 

Pons (Bonne de). Marquise 
d'Heudicourt, chosen to 
cover intrigue between Ma- 
dame and the King, 66 ; sent 
to Paris, 66 ; figures in the 
ballet Les Saisons, 77 ; in 
Les Amours deguises, 138 ; 
gives the King her place 
beside Mme de Montespan, 
217 ; exiled for indiscretion 
with regard to Mme de 
Montespan, 290 

Pothier (Jean), agrees to lend 
money to La Valliere, 223 

Pousse (X. Raguier, Demoi- 
selle de Pousse, or Poussey), 
brought to Court by Mme de 
Choisy, 175 

Pradel, Commandant of 
Dauphin's Light-Horse, 174 

Pre (Clemence), godmother of 
Louise's first child, 132 

Prieur (Le), surname of Gui- 
bourg, 192 

Provost de la Coutelaye 
(Frangoise Le). See Saint- 
Remi (Marquise de) 

Provost (Jean Le), Sieur de la 
Coutelaye, Equerry of the 
Grande E curie du roi, 10 

Psyche (Ballet), produced in 
1671, 282 

Purnon, maitre d'hotel, inter- 
rogated by the King on 
Madame's death, 272 



Index 



40i 



Puy (Estate of), added to fief of 

La Valliere, 4 
PuYGUiLHEM. See Lauzun 



R 

Rameau (Manor of), belonging 
to the Courtarvels, partially 
alienated, 21 

Range (Abbe de), Almoner of 
the Duo d'Orleans ; his con- 
version, vigil over dead duke, 
44, 298 ; visits Sister Louise 
de la Misericorde, 338 

Rare (Marie-Charlotte de 
Lancy, Demoiselle de Raray), 
daughter of the Princesses of 
Orleans' governess at Blois, 
22 ; object of Charles of 
Lorraine's passion, 44 

Reflexions sur la misericorde de 
Dieu, its publication, 357 

Reugny (Castle of) its descrip- 
tion according to an in- 
ventory, 12 

Reugny (Church of), burying- 
place of Laurent II. de La 
Baume Le Blanc, 5 

Reugny (Parish of), origin of the 
La Vallieres, 3 

Reynie (La), his notes on the 
poison-trials , 185 

RiBEYRE (Antoine de), steward 
at Tours, 296 

Richelieu (Marquis de), sup- 
posed lover of Mile de La 
Motte, 33 ; his relations with 
Mile de La Motte-Argen- 
court, 82 

RissE (La), Maid to the Queen, 
mixed up in anonymous 
letter-affair, 97 

Robert, steward of Dunkirk, 
288 

RoBiNET, successor of Loret, 165 

RocHECHOUART (Marie-Mag- 
deleine-Gabrielle de), Abbess 
of Fontevrault, 282 



Roche-Aymon (Prince de La), 

319 
Roche (Estate of La), added to 

the fief of La ValliSre, 4 
Roche sur Yon (Prince de 

La), his rivalry with his 

brother the Prince de Conti, 

365 
Rocroy (Battle of), 6 
Rohan, brought up with the 

King, 76 
Roure (Jacqueline de Beau- 

voir de Grimoard du). See 

PoLiGNAC (Mme de) 
Roure (Mme du). See Ar- 

TIGNY (Mile d') 
RoussEREAU, spies on Mile de 

la Motte, 27 
Roy (Le), Governor of the 

Pages of the Petite Ecurie, 

183 ; goes to Saint-Denis, 

arranges with Guibourg for 

the Black Mass, 184 



Sacy (M. de), imprisoned in 
Bastille, 162 

Saint-Aignan (Fran9ois de 
Beauvilliers, Comte de), or- 
ganises an entertainment in 
1 66 1 at Fontainebleau, 63 ; 
Governor of Touraine, favou- 
rite of the King, 7 1 ; lends his 
room to the King, 72 ; substi- 
tuted for the Due de Navailles 
in the Government of Havre, 
142 ; son-in-law of Colbert, 
310 

Sainte-Brigide (Battle of), 6 

Saint-Christophe (Barony of), 
joined to Vau jours Estate to 
make Duchy of La Valliere, 
196 

Sainte-Croix, accomplice of 
the Brinvilliers, 181 

Saint-Cloud, sojourn of Madame 
at, in 1661, 83 

Saint-Eloy (Guard), receives 



4o6 



Index 



the anonymous letter against 

Louise, 97 
Sainte-Fgi, Monsieur's head 

valet-de-chambre, 263 
Saint- Jean-d'Angely, meeting- 
place of the King and Marie 

Mancini, 40 
Saint-Jean-de-Luz, King meets 

the Infanta there, 42 
Saint-Marcel of Saint-Denis 

(Church), 181 
Saint-Perine (Abbey of), joined 

to the Convent of Chaillot, 

91 

Saint-Pol (Charles-Paris d'Or- 
16ans-Longueville, Comte de) 
killed at the Passage of the 
Rhine, 314 

Saint-Remi (Catherine de), 
step-daughter of Frangoise 
Le Provost, 20 ; companion 
of the Princesses of (Drleans 
at Blois, 22 ; asked in 
marriage by Charles IV. of 
Lorraine, 113; shut up tem- 
porarily in the Luxembourg, 
113 ; married to Germain 
d'HautefeuHle, 114, 306 

Saint-Remi (Frangoise Le Pro- 
vost de la Coutelaye, Mar- 
quise de), wife of Laurent de 
La Baume Le Blanc, mother 
of Louise de La Valliere, 3 ; 
claims her personal estate at 
her husband's death and re- 
nounces guardianship of her 
children, 1 1 ; marries the Mar- 
quis de Saint-Remi, 19 ; has 
another daughter, 56 ; au- 
thorised to borrow for ex- 
penses of sending her children 
to Court, 57 ; her reported 
attitude towards Louise's 
fall, 74 ; her death, 371 

Saint-Remi (Jacques de Cour- 
tarvel, Marquis de), marries 
Fran9oise Le Provost, 19 ; 
keeps his post of maitre d'ho- 



tel to the Dowager-Madame, 
45 ; precautions about the 
loan for sending Louise and 
her brother to Court, 56 

Saint - Saturnin de Tours 
(Church), Louise baptized 
there, 3 

Saint-Vaast d' Arras (Abbey of), 
Vermandois buried there, 361 

Sanguin, Officer of the Due 
d' Orleans, 40 ; Gentleman of 
the Chamber, proprietor of 
Genitoy, 295 

Savoie (Due DE), his interview 
with the King at Lyons, 34 

Savoie (Eugene de). See 
SoissoNS (Comte de) 

Savoie (Madame Roy ale de), 
her correspondence with 
Mme de Choisy, 54 

Savoie (Marguerite de), her 
pro j ected marriage with Louis 
XIV., 33 ; its abandonment, 
35 ; written promise of the 
King to marry her, 35 

ScARRON (Mme). See Main- 
TENON (Fran9oise d'Aubigne, 
Dame de) 

ScARRON (M.), burlesque au- 
thor, 18 

Sejournant (Maitre), Notary, 
221 

Sevigne (Mme de), makes ad- 
vances to Mme Scarron, 304 

SoissoNS (Eugene de Savoie, 
Comte de), his marriage with 
Olympe Mancini, 26 ; exiled 
for having insulted the Due 
de NavaUles, 95 

SoissoNS (Olympe Mancini, 
Comtesse de), eldest of Ma- 
zarin's nieces, received at 
Palais-Royal, marries the 
Comte de Soissons, 26 ; 
Superintendent of Queen's 
Household, 48 ; notices 
Foucquet's attentions to La 
Vallidre, 80 ; retained at 



Index 



407 



Court during husband's 
exile, 94 ; her jealousy of 
Louise, 95 ; her plot against 
Louise, 96 ; incites the King 
to an intrigue with Mile de 
La Motte-Houdancourt, 105 ; 
her fresh attempt against 
Louise, 127 ; tells the Queen 
of the King's love-afiairs, 
128 ; her denunciations, 153 ; 
dismissed from Court, 154; 
goes to see la Voisin, 155 ; 
her fifth child, 156; makes 
a lampoon about La Valliere, 

243 

SouART (Elisabeth), wife of 
Claude Pajot, iii 

SouRDis (M. de). Governor of 
Orleanais, his resistance at 
Amboise, 10 

Spire (Siege of), 6 

Sweden (Queen of), her cor- 
respondence with Mme de 
Choisy, 54 



Talhouet, Lieutenant of the 

Body-Guard, his quarrel at 

the Hotel Brion, 138 
Tarneau (Elizabeth de), her 

supposed flirtation with the 

King, 25 
Tellier (Le), Chancellor, the 

King's orders to him after 

Mazarin's death, 49 
Temple de la Paix {Le), ballet, 

369 

Tessier (Claude), ■' pauper," 
godfather of Philippe, La 
Valliere's second child, 151 

Thianges (Gabrielle de Roche- 
chouart-Mortemart, Marquise 
de), sister of Mme de Mon- 
tespan, receives Lesage and 
Mariette, 219 ; present at 
Lauzun's dinner to the Duke 
of Buckingham, 275 ; mar- 



ried by M. de Nevers, 277 ; 

praised by Mme de Sevigne, 

312 
Thivol (Jacques). See Sainte 

Foi 
TisTONNET, Master Apothe- 
cary, III 
Tonnay-Charente (Athenais 

de). See MoNTESPAN (Mme 

de) 
Tuscany (Duke of), marries 

Marguerite d' Orleans, 51 
Tuscany (Princess of)v See 

Orleans (Marguerite d') 
Tournai, subdued by the King, 

213; sojourn of the Court at, 

during Flanders campaign, 

302 
Tours (Town of), birthplace of 

Louise de La Valliere, 3 
Treville, brought up with the 

King, ^6 
Tuileries (Court of the), bread 

baked there for the people, 

88 
Tuileries, Louise goes to live 

there as Maid-of-Honour, 58 ; 

renovations there in 1661, 83 
TuRENNE, reproaches made to 

him about Flanders cam- 
paign, 207, 299 



Valliere (Abbe de La). See 
Baume Le Blanc (Gilles de 
La) 

Valliere (Fief of La), acquired 
by Laurent de La Baume Le 
Blanc, 4 ; decadence of the 
demesne, 6 ; situation and 
description of the Manor, 6 ; 
made into a Marquisate, 7 

Valliere (Jean-Fran9ois de La 
Baume Le Blanc, Marquis 
de La), elder brother of 
Louise, 11; his outfit, 56 ; 



4o8 



Index 



Lieutenant of the King at the 
Castle of Amboise in 1661, 
81 ; his youth, 122 ; Lieuten- 
ant of the King in the Gov- 
ernment of Amboise, Cornet 
of Light Horse, 122 ; receives 
a pension from the King, 
123 ; married to Gabrielle 
Gle de laCotardais, 124; has 
a place of honour in a Tilting 
at the Ring at Versailles, 
1 39 ; his quarrel with the 
Chevalier de Lorraine, 168 ; 
his tactless familiarities, 169 ; 
takes Colonel Carp prisoner, 
174 ; his eccentricities at 
Amsterdam, 172 ; Captain- 
Lieutenant of Dauphin's 
Light-Horse, 174 ; made 
Brigadier-General, 200 ; his 
death, 352 

Valliere (Gabrielle Gle de la 
Cotardais, Marquise de La) 
her marriage, 124 ; accom- 
panies her sister-in-law to la 
Fere, 208 ; present at Lau- 
zun's dinner to the Duke of 
Buckingham, 275 ; relative 
of the Marechale de Belle- 
fonds, 297 

Valliere (Louise-Fran9oise 
de La Baume Le Blanc, 
Duchesse de La), born at 
Tours, 3 ; baptized, 3 ; her 
mother's guardianship, 11 ; 
companion to the Princesses 
of Orleans at Blois, 22 ; her 
correspondence at Blois with 
M. de Bragelongne, 23 ; 
Monsieur's compliment to 
her, 23 ; present at the King's 
reception at Blois, 40 ; goes 
to live in the Luxembourg, 
45 ; presented to Madame as 
Maid-of-Honour by Mme de 
Choisy, 55 ; moneys given 
her to set her up as Maid-of- 
Honour, 56; goes to TuUeries 



as Maid-of-Honour, 57 ; se- 
lected to cover the intrigue 
between the King and Ma- 
dame, 65 ; her portrait at the 
time of the King's first atten- 
tions, 66 ; beginning of King's 
passion, 67 ; received by 
King in Saint- Aignan's room, 
y2 ; her portrait as Diana, 
76 ; figures in the ballet of 
Les Saisons, jy ; tells the 
King what Foucquet says to 
her, 80 ; sees the King again 
on his return from Nantes, 
82 ; follows Madame to Saint- 
Cloud, 83 ; ceases to appear 
at Madame's, and stays in 
her room at the Tuiieries, 88 ; 
the King angry with her 
about the Montalais girl, she 
leaves the Tuiieries and 
retires to Convent at Chail- 
lot, 90 ; forgives the King for 
de La Motte intrigue, 114; 
her portrait painted by No- 
cret, 115; her correspondence 
with the King, 115; rehearses 
shepherdess' part in a ballet, 
117; figures as Shepherdess 
and as Amazon in the ballet 
of Les Arts, 120 ; her first 
pregnancy, 120 ; ceases to be 
Maid-of-Honour, is given the 
Palais Brion, 131 ; bears a 
son, 132 ; sits at Royal Table 
at Versailles with Mme de 
Marse and the d'Artigny girl, 
140 ; recognised as favourite, 
145 ; projects of marriage, 
149; pregnant again, 150; 
bears a son, 1 50 ; manoeuvres 
of the Comtesse de Soissons 
against her, 156; object of 
an attack at the Hotel Brion, 
157 ; her part in a ballet per- 
formed in 1666 ; again preg- 
nant, 165 ; Marie-Therese 
receives her, 167 ; first symp- 



Index 



409 



toms of King's lassitude, 169 ; 
her house at Versailles (Rue 
de Pompe), 176 ; sacrilegious 
proceedings against her, 1 84 ; 
rumour of her marriage, 1 86 ; 
her second son dies, id. ; 
bears a daughter at Vin- 
cennes, 188 ; appears in the 
ballet of Les Muses, 193 ; 
created a Duchess, 196 ; re- 
garded as deserted by the 
Court, 200 ; pregnant, 201 ; 
forbidden to follow the Court 
to Compiegne, 206 ; stays at 
Versailles, goes unsummoned 
to Avesnes, 207 ; rejoins the 
Court at la Fere, 208 ; bears 
a son at Saint-Germain, 215 ; 
her life with Mme de Mon- 
tespan, 216 ; the Montespan 
conspires against her, 218 ; 
stays at Saint-Germain with 
the Montespan, 221 ; pays 
balance for the acquisition of 
Vau jours, 223 ; contracts a 
loan from Jean Pothier, 223 ; 
invited to follow the Court to 
Chambord ,230; her grievances 
against Mme de Montespan, 
233 ; reasons for her tolera- 
tion of Mme de Montespan, 

235 ; her apparent opulence, 

236 ; signs a contract with 
Mme de Montespan for the 
building of grottoes, 242 ; 
enters her twenty-fifth year, 

244 ; sums she receives from 
Colbert, 224 ; her expendi- 
ture, her baths at Carrieres, 

245 ; seriously ill, 245 ; with 
the dying Madame, 266 ; 
fresh talk of her marriage 
with Lauzun, 278 ; decides 
anew to retire from the 
world (1671), 283 ; retires to 
the Convent at Chaillot, 284; 
invited to follow the Court in 
the Flanders campaign, 287 ; 



her charities, 296 ; takes 
Father Cesar as Director, 299; 
stays at Tournai with Marie- 
Ther^se, 302 ; resolves upon 
retreat, 306 ; visits the Car- 
melites of the Rue d'Enfer, 
308 ; her request to enter the 
Carmelite Convent, 309 ; as- 
sured of admission to the 
postulate, 309 ; godmother to 
the fourth child of the King 
and Mme de Montespan, 316; 
is painted with her children 
by Mignard, 319 ; her embar- 
rassments, 321 ; permitted to 
retire, 323 ; sends her jewels 
to the King, 325 ; submits a 
list of pensions, 325 ; takes 
leave of the King, 325 ; asks 
pardon of Marie-Therese, 
326 ; enters the Carmelite 
Convent, 327 ; her life at the 
Carmelites, 331 ; authorised 
to fix a day for taking the 
veil, 333 ; her taking of the 
veil, 334 ; takes the vows, 
June 3, 1675, 338 ; professed, 
345 ; receives the black veil 
presented by the Queen, 346 ; 
her penances, 349 ; her atti- 
tude towards her son, 352 ; 
writes to the King in favour 
of her nephew, 354 ; ill, 354 ; 
Reflexions sur la misSricorde 
de Dieu attributed to her, 
359 ; her grief at her son's 
conduct, 360 ; hears of her 
son's death, 361 ; looks after 
her nephews and nieces, 372 ; 
her numerous visitors at 
Carmel, 375 ; taxed with 
Jansenism, 377 ; made sacris- 
tine, 379 ; her malady, 382 ; 
her last moments, 383 ; her 
death, 384 ; her burial, 
385^ 
Valliere (Louise-Gabrielle de 
La), niece of the Duchess, 



4IO 



Index 



372 ; marries C6sar de Chois- 
eul, id. ; her light behaviour, 
repudiated, 373 

Valliere ( Marie- Yolande de 
La), niece of the Duchess, 
372 ; shut up at Faremous- 
tier, 373 

Vallot, Physician, attends the 
King (1662), 109 ; attends 
Madame, 264 ; present at 
her autopsy, 271 

Valognes, Gigault de Belle- 
fonds. Governor of, 297 

Vardes (Rene-Franfois du 
Bee Crespin, Marquis de), 
prepares the anonymous 
letter against Louise, 95 ; 
the King asks him for 
information about it, 98 ; 
he casts suspicion on the 
Duchesse de Navailles and 
Mile de Montpensier, 98 ; 
talk of marrying him to 
La Valliere, 148 ; his re- 
marks about Madame, 152 ; 
shut up in the Bastille, 
152 

Vaujours (Estate of), made a 
Duchy, 196 ; balance of 
purchase-money paid, 223 

Vaux (Festivities at), given by 
Foucquet in 1661, 81 

Venoix, near Caen, Lesage's 
birth-place, 181 

Vermandois (Louis, Comte 
de), his clandestine birth at 
Saint-Germain, 215 ; ac- 
knowledged, February, 1669, 
235 ; appointed Admiral of 
France, id. ; Chambre des 
comptes confirms his salary as 
Admiral of France, 291 ; 
authorised to make a loan to 
his mother, 321 ; comes to 
visit her at the Convent, 352 ; 
his conduct, 360 ; the King 
banishes him from his pre- 
sence, 360 ; imprisoned in 



Normandy, 360 ; permitted 
to follow the troops under the 
Marechal d'Humi^res, 361 ; 
his death, 361 

Versailles, Les plaisirs de Vtle 
enchantee produced there in 
1664 139 

Veurdre (Le), Parish in the 
arrondissement of Moulins, 
origin of Le Blanc family, 4 ; 
armorial bearings of the 
famUy on keystone of the 
church, 5 

Vexin (Louis-Cesar, Comte 
de), son of the King and 
Mme de Montespan, 315 

ViEuviLLE (Rene-Fran9ois, 
Marquis de La), marries, in 
1676, Anne-Lucie de La 
Motte-Houdancourt, 108 

ViLLACERF, Queen's mattre 
d' hotel, 209 

ViLLARCEAUX, 294 

Villebousin (Castle of), i8i ; 
Mme de Montespan has the 
Black Mass celebrated there, 

183 

Villeneuve-Beauregard, or Ville- 
neuve-sur-Gravois, a district 
of Paris inhabited by la 
Voisin, 155, 171 

Villeroy (Castle of), sojourn of 
the Queen-mother and Ma- 
dame at, 65 

Villeroy (Fran9ois de Neuf- 
ville. Marquis de), his part in 
the ballet in 1666, 165 

Villiers, Manor belonging to 
M. d'Aubray, 183 

Vincennes (Castle of). King's 
sojourn there, 27 

Vivonne (Louis- Victor de 
Rochechouart, Marechal, Due 
de), son of M. de Morte- 
mart, acts as go-between 
for the King and Marie 
Mancini, 37 ; comrade of 
Louis XIV. when a boy, 176 ; 



Index 



411 



his father buys for him the 
■ post of General of the Galleys , 

240 ; Governor of Paris, 

240 
VoisiN (Catherine Monvoisin, 

called La), her origin, 154; 



her abode, 155 ; receives 
the Comtesse de Soissons, 
156 
VuoRDEN (M. de), announces 
the birth of the Dauphin to 
the Court of Spain, 85 




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